The Succubus
by Miracles79
Summary: Everything you know about Hermione Granger is a lie. At first glance she would appear to you as nothing more than just another muggle but that could not be further from the truth. Hermione is special, one of a kind and in time she will uncover the truth and the answer to her one question; who is Hermione Granger? Heavy smut! More info at the end of the first chapter.
1. Chapter 1: Powerless

Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Prologue: Powerless

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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Darkness had spread its way through Hogwarts castle; the sun's rays receding from view to be replaced by black clouds and shadow. A cold chill descended with the fog, a sign that winter had arrived early this time of year. It was not an unexpected phenomenon but most certainly uncomfortable for the few that remained inside the imposing castle. Thankfully, for the occupants that stayed behind, there were none of the usual sounds of late night cramming or whispered conversation in the halls.

And, why should there be?

School had finally finished for the year, students returning to their families in droves. The only people who remained were the more industrious members of the teaching body: Professor McGonagall, Severus Snape and Rubeus Hagrid, to name but a few. Most kept to themselves working into the night to plan lessons or check the attendance sheets for their houses. But on this occasion, and rather out of the ordinary, tonight, Minerva McGonagall could be seen walking through the halls, moving further away from her office. To most this would not have seemed a strange occurrence but to those who truly knew the professor it would have seemed very out of character.

Minerva McGonagall was a very studious woman; she worked diligently and always kept a close eye on her students whether they were from her house or not. She was also known for rarely venturing outside her office unless called upon to teach classes or lead rounds about the castle, which was always tedious and uneventful.

A common trend, amongst older, love-struck, students, was to use the empty classrooms as their own personal make out room. Unfortunately, this idea was almost always accompanied by stupidity; how older students did not have the forethought to use silencing spells was beyond Minerva. Not that she condoned these actions, oh no, in fact she despised the idea entirely, but her displeasure was only second to that of disappointment.

To think that Hogwarts's oldest students had not had the sense to perform even the simplest of spells; it was embarrassing to say the least. Did her lessons not sink into their heads or something? But, never the less, and as she had always been reminded, these rounds were for the student's better protection. She would endure whatever came if it meant her students felt safe and protected.

So, in hindsight, it was best to say; she rarely left her office unless her profession dictated that she must. So it begs the question; why was Minerva walking the halls when she would much prefer to stay locked up inside her office, working?

The simple answer: Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and wizardry, had called for a meeting. The message, like most messages from Albus, was prompt and to the point, the deadline being this afternoon in fact. That was why Professor McGonagall could be seen walking the halls towards Dumbledore's office, her steps calm and measured.

Having reached the entrance to the Headmaster's office, Minerva spoke to the stone gargoyle who only glowered up at her as she approached. Minerva might have been feeling paranoid but the gargoyle always seemed to have that same look of loathing in its eye every time she entered. She doubted it was a personal grudge but it still confused her, although most things which involved Albus Dumbledore would confuse her.

Ignoring the gargoyle, Minerva climbed up the circling stairs unperturbed as they revolved and ascended towards a wooden door high above. As she waited, McGonagall pondered on a question she had been asking herself ever since she received the letter from Dumbledore. The question being; why was she called to Albus's office at such short notice?

Were any of the students from her house in danger of being excluded?

Doubtful, that honour, thankfully, resided with Severus Snape and more importantly Slytherin House. Snape would often be called to Albus's office to discuss complaints raised against his house, the usual pupils discussed being; Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. In fact, in an uncomfortable statistic, it was revealed that both Draco and Pansy had received more warnings than all the students in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw combined. Severus must have had a remarkable way with words as neither had been excluded for their behaviour… not yet anyhow.

So, Minerva doubted it had anything to do with exclusion. Perhaps it had something to do with… behaviour?

Once again that suggestion sounded very unlikely. Aside from a few students who caused frequent disruptions in class, I.e. Fred and George - Gryffindor was a very well behaved house. There numerous victories, over other houses, in the house cup were a testament to that. Although, if Minerva was being brutally honest, the cup was won single-handedly by Hermione Granger who achieved at least two-thirds of their total house points alone.

…

If teachers were allowed favourites then McGonagall would have picked Hermione Granger, from all the students she had taught over the years, in a heartbeat. Hermione was not only intelligent but had a work ethic that beggared belief; she was polite and had been Minerva's only choice for Gryffindor's prefect this year. She came to Hogwarts from a muggle upbringing and yet on her first day she had put all other students to shame with her knowledge and understanding of complex subjects. A student this rare was simply a treat to behold. The last student with such a rare gift was none other than Chloe Roberts who would go on to become the highest ranking member of the auror office.

So, behaviour wasn't an option either. Which meant only one thing; it had something to do with the, so called, 'Golden Trio.'

It wasn't a hard deduction because in all her years of teaching she had never discussed students so frequently then Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter. She only wondered which member this discussion would involve; most likely Harry as he managed to cause trouble both inside Hogwarts and out. Not that he was a trouble-maker, oh no, in fact Harry was remarkably well behaved for someone with so much publicity. He was not exactly diligent in his studies either, much like Ron, but he had a level head and a talent for quelling danger whenever it reared its ugly head.

So, with somewhat of an understanding of the situation, Minerva stepped off the revolving stair case and walked towards the door. To her surprise the door was already wide open, and before she could knock to make Dumbledore aware of her presence, the same man's voice reached her. "Come in Minerva, have a seat. I fear this conversation may take us a while so it's best we get started."

Already a bad sign, Albus's voice sounded worn and that was something she did not expect of the usually vibrant Headmaster. Stepping through, Minerva saw Albus feeding a young phoenix on its porch, the fire which surrounded the feathery beast igniting with every mouthful of food. Walking to a chair in front of the headmaster's desk, Minerva took a seat and waited for Albus to follow. The situation sounded important, and if the piles of parchment left on his desk were any indication the topic would not be easy to digest.

"Before we start; would you like a sherbet lemon?"

"No, that's quite alright." Minerva replied, wanting to get to the brunt of the problem.

"A shame. I have grown quite fond of these since returning from London."

Having said that Albus un-wrapped a small yellow sweet and popped it in his mouth, savouring the taste as he went to sit down. However, as Albus sat in his chair, McGonagall immediately seized upon the name of the city he had mistakenly divulged.

"From London?" Minerva repeated, sensing the subject of this conversation immediately. "So this has something to do with Harry? Is he alright?"

Chuckling, Albus removed his half mooned spectacles and rubbed them against the cuff of his cloak. "As far as I know Harry is fine… and living with his Aunt and Uncle if I'm not mistaken. No, the topic I wish to discuss at this time doesn't actually involve Harry. Better yet, it involves a close friend of his; Hermione Granger."

Taken a back, McGonagall probed on. "Ms Granger? Has she done something wrong?"

"No, no. Quite like always Ms Granger has been an excellent student with perfect attendance and even better grades." Albus's expression gradually turned as he considered how best to approach the next topic. It would be difficult and very hard to explain, not to mention comprehend.

He had only recently acquired the information from a well trusted source and even now he was struggling under its weight. Over sight was one thing but to be completely blind to the signs was something else entirely, most unlike the reputable wizard who always kept his priorities in check.

"Unfortunately, this year might prove to be very difficult for Ms Granger. I'm not even sure what will happen, if I'm honest; this is the first time I've ever faced a situation as complex as this."

"What do you mean, Albus? What's going on?"

Looking Minerva in the eye, Albus straightened up and prepared for the worst.

…

…

"Hermione Granger is not what she appears."

"Sorry?" Minerva uttered, all other forms of speech lost to her at the present time. Motionless, a cold shiver spread through Minerva's body, eyes wide as she looked at Albus's stern features. This was not just some joke said in poor taste. Albus was serious, and more importantly he was speaking no word of a lie.

Which meant…?

"It's like I said," Albus continued, cutting off Minerva's reverie. "Hermione Granger is not, in fact, Hermione Granger."

"I'm sorry, Albus, you've completely lost me. What do you mean Hermione isn't… Hermione?"

Looking down at the piles of parchment cluttering his desk, Albus picked up the first one closest to him and showed it to Professor McGonagall. Leaving the parchment in front of Minerva, Albus then picked up a second parchment and placed it beside the first one. Confused by these actions, Minerva poured over the contents but was left feeling a little unsure of what she was supposed to be looking for.

"This is Ms Granger's personal information, am I correct?"

"Yes."

Looking back towards the parchment Minerva scanned the contents a second time but everything seemed to be in order. To her well trained eye nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary; her age, gender, birthplace and everything else that was included was right and up to date. So, why did Albus seem unnerved by these documents?

"I don't see the problem. This information is in line with everything I know about Ms Granger, unless her information has changed all of a sudden."

"It has," Albus muttered, scratching his chin with a sigh of resignation. "Hermione Granger's personal information is incorrect, almost all of it in fact."

"'Incorrect?' But… how? I don't understand?"

"I will tell you but Minerva, what I am about to tell you must stay in this office. It cannot be discussed with anyone other than myself, am I understood?"

The stern manner in which Albus asked this question caught Minerva off guard. She was one of Albus's most trusted advisors and he would rarely talk to her like this. The only conclusion she could make was that the matter was of the upmost importance.

Albus only ever acted in this manner when lives were in the balance and if Hermione was in any sort of danger then Minerva would support her in any way she can. Hermione was not only a bright and kind student but she was also one of McGonagall's favourites. She deserved a long and prosperous life and Minerva would ensure she lived to experience it.

"I understand. Now, please, Albus, tell me what's wrong!"

"Thank you, Minerva. Hermione will need all the support she can get," Albus stated, smiling at Minerva before returning to the topic at hand. "Like I said before, the information in Hermione's personal information is wrong. The documents were not forged on purpose; the truth was merely hidden from view. No one knows about Ms Granger's lineage, that includes Ms Granger herself."

"How do you know it's wrong? The personal information, I mean."

"It was confirmed not only by one of my most trusted advisors but also by the woman who first made the claim." Noticing that Minerva was about to interrupt, Albus raised his hand to silence any questions. "I think its best I tell you the facts before explaining the source of the problem, if you are agreeable?"

"Of course," McGonagall replied, eager to learn more of the issue.

"Well, to start off with; Hermione is not a muggle."

"What do you mean; Hermione is not a muggle?" McGonagall responded, features stern but her eyes betraying her surprise.

"Well, actually, that is not completely true; she is still a muggle, born and raised, but her blood contains only half the genetics found in muggles. The other half is something far more complicated." Albus stated, looking at the phoenix that was leaning to scratch its head on the ornament.

"Do you know what the other half is?"

"I know of it but don't know what word best describes it." Albus thought for a moment and pondered on how best to describe this phenomenon. Several seconds later, Albus nodded his head and returned his attention to McGonagall, having reached a satisfactory conclusion. "I think the best word to describe this phenomenon would be; Succubus. There are other words, of course; Siren, predator, seductress but the most fitting would be succubus."

"Are you saying Hermione is a half-blooded Succubus? That's not possible; we would have seen the signs."

"Ah, but we couldn't," Albus corrected, leaning back in his chair. "Because in most cases a succubus child stays with their parents and is taught and raised in the manner befitting of their kind. But in Hermione's case - and in the case of other half-bloods - she was abandoned." Before Albus could explain further, Minerva suddenly realised the reason for her obliviousness to Hermione's condition.

Without meaning to Minerva interrupted, speaking more to herself than Albus. "Which means the ritual wasn't performed."

"Exactly," Albus said, a hint of pride in his voice as Minerva realised the situation. "As we know, full blooded succubus's do not need the ritual as their blood awakens naturally by itself. But in Hermione's case, and as a half-blood, her blood would need to be awakened by one of her kind. And, that is why she is in danger? A succubus has marked her and is coming to awaken her blood."

"So, what do we do? Do we hide Hermione inside the castle and double the protection?"

Grimacing, Albus informed Minerva of the unfortunate truth. "It's already too late. The succubus has already received approval from the clans to 'blood' Hermione and we can't do anything to stop it." Noticing Minerva's look of outrage, Albus continued on. "I tried, believe me Minerva; I tried to make them see reason but they are a dying breed and I couldn't convince them to seek out other alternatives."

"So, you gave up? When did you, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, cave to the wishes of anyone?" Minerva piped up; her voice rising, outraged that he would not stand for Hermione in such a troubling time.

"The situation is not as simple as you'd think," Albus said calmly, appearing unperturbed by Minerva's glare, which would have silenced most men in the Ministry of Magic no matter their position.

"Then explain the situation. Maybe then I could understand why you shirked your duty."

"They threatened to go to war other the issue, Minerva," Albus said, not troubled by the previous remark. "They told me that war would be waged if I took Hermione away from them. I don't know why but they value Ms Granger above many other members of their clan. They call her 'the miracle child.' For what reason, I don't know, but she is clearly more than meets the eye."

"'The miracle child?' I wonder what that is."

Placing his chin in his hands Albus mulled this over for a while. "It could mean a number of things but there is no way of knowing until the clans wish to reveal it. They are already suspicious of my intentions; just the thought of losing Ms Granger was enough to enrage them beyond the point of reason. What would bring an entire species to the point of war?"

"To think they would wage war over a single succubus. Surely that's just talk, Albus. There numbers are too few. They wouldn't risk extinction over Ms Granger?"

"Not only would they risk extinction," Albus continued, standing up and leaning against his chair. ", but they would also take thousands of wizards and muggles with them."

"There would be no positive outcome, would there? If we win we'd have wiped out an entire species, and if we lose then we would also lose Ms Granger. No matter what, it's a losing scenario." Minerva concluded, watching as Albus paced behind his desk in controlled strides.

"You see my predicament. And, in any case, I can't risk an international incident while the Death Eaters are rebuilding and Lord Voldermort is regaining his strength. We cannot fight on two fronts and expect to win. I'm sorry Minerva, but if I moved to protect Ms Granger from the clans then I would have risked the lives of everyone."

Shocked by this sudden revelation, Minerva stared into space. Fear and understanding gripping her being to the point of physical pain, she realised now that Albus had no control over the situation. "No, I… I understand now. The lives of the many must come before the life of one. So, what will we do? Can we support Hermione or would it upset the clans?"

"That is where I have some good news," Albus said, sounding more cheerful than before. "Hermione will not be moving to the clans but will instead stay and study at Hogwarts. They refused my initial request, understandable since they would want to keep her safe. But after showing them her grades they seemed far more accepting of the idea."

"Why would they care about her grades?" Minerva asked, confused by the clans sudden change of plans.

"Well, naturally, because one of their own would in a better position to influence legislation at the Ministry." Seeing Minerva's raised eye brow, Albus included his obvious omission. "I might have, also, let slip that Hermione was hoping to work in the Department of Magical creatures when she's older. Once I let that slip, negotiations seemed to go on with very little hindrance. They were practically begging me to take Ms Granger off their hands, couldn't imagine why." Albus said, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Hmm, very clever."

"Not too clever it would seem. The clans have asked that one of their own be present to monitor Hermione's progress." Albus informed, returning to his seat.

"What? And you refused them I'm sure. Albus, we can't have another succubus on the grounds; that would put even more lives at risk."

"The clans and I discussed this at length and managed to reach an accord. Rather than a succubus coming to our school, Hermione will be monitored by an impartial advisor; in this case, a siren."

"Aren't sirens and succubus's one and the same?"

Laughing, Albus glanced towards his papers and said. "Hmm, that is a common misconception. Sirens and succubuses are closely related, yes, but they aren't one and the same. Sirens have learnt to control their desires and can function within society without prejudice. The effects of mating with a Siren are also less harmful. For instance, a succubus can kill if left undisturbed during the mating cycle while a siren can only cause a loss of consciousness. Considering the alternative, I think I worked out a mutually beneficial deal."

"And I take it this Siren will be living in the lake? Students will need to take different routes to herbolagy and care of magical creatures if that's the case."

Standing to pet the phoenix, which was making a loud chirping noise, Albus replied. "That will not be necessary. The Sirens are sending one of their best. We have agreed upon certain conditions to protect the students. To start with, she will remain under the water for the duration of classes and only have contact with Ms Granger, you and me. Ms Granger will also need to report any changes, whether physical or psychological, to the siren once a week and that is mandatory."

"So, we'll need to inform Hermione about this then."

"There will be no need. The siren will make contact with Hermione first; the clans do not want us involved at all. We're lucky they even allowed her back to Hogwarts."

Sighing, Minerva looked at the clock stationed behind Albus's desk and realised how late it is. She still needed to finish that letter to the ministry.

"Oh, and the ministry, must not catch wind of this. If they find out that Ms Granger is a succubus then she would be blacklisted from all positions in their employ. We can't afford that, Ms Granger has the potential to change the face of this world for the better, if she so desires. I won't let her talents be shunned because of mere squeamishness." Albus said, sounding as if this was obvious and not out of context whatsoever.

Minerva was about to question Albus's ability to read minds when she saw the look on Albus's face. He looked drained, overworked and this new headache would no doubt cause more discomfort. It was not a common sight, the great man usually put on a front while in the company of others. But it seemed this most recent problem had caused his facade to crack, if only slightly.

"We must place are trust in Hermione. We cannot disrupt her life or make any attempts to sway her away from the clans. The Siren will know if we do, they have a remarkable ability to hear everything no matter the distance. My hands are tied, and that is something I do not like."

"Is there anything we can do? Do you think the clans will allow Hermione to live as an independent woman when she leaves?"

"I hope so. Hogwarts was, after all, created to educate young minds and create all the opportunities they could desire. Ms Granger's independence must come before the whims of the clans; we can't allow her to fall prey to their doctrine."

Sensing the disgust in his voice, Minerva voiced her concern. "You know something, don't you, Albus. What aren't you telling me?"

"The clans… they want her to be married to a member of their clan, and to procreate as soon as she bleeds. I will not allow that to happen; Hermione deserves far better than that. I will not leave her to become a…"

Noticing Albus's voluntary silence, Minerva suddenly became frenzied. "Albus? You don't think…?"

Grimacing, and rubbing his forehead, Albus replied. "I do. Ms Granger will be used by the clans so that they can use her intelligence to their own benefit; that much I am sure of. But this other ability of hers is what worries me. I need to learn more about this 'miracle.' There must be something she can offer the clans that no other succubus can. I have my suspicions but I don't feel comfortable voicing them, they are too ghastly to imagine."

Minerva sat in silence, realising the line of thinking Albus was going down. She had feared this the moment Albus had made mention of 'the miracle.' For what did a dying race need more than an injection of life?

"Ms. Granger will be safe until she leaves Hogwarts, and that won't be for another few years. Until then I will place my full confidence in her. She will do what's right and I trust her to control whatever urges she feels while at school. She'll be alright…" And yet, as Minerva watched the Headmaster stare with a steadfast determination, she couldn't ignore the underlying hint of concern hidden beneath his rimmed glasses.

…

Little did they know that in the darkness, hidden in a thicket of trees, outside the Granger household, stood a scarlet Succubus preparing to make her move. Her eyes trained on the slim figure of a woman who sat on her bed, reading a heavy tome. This was it! After many years of searching she had finally found her. Hermione Granger. Now, finally, the blood ritual would be complete and a miracle would be born.

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Author's Note:

Hello all! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new story. It has been in my mind for quite some time now and I finally found the time to write out the first chapter.

I'm going to give you a little background on this story now; what to expect, the people involved and basic stuff like that. No spoilers!

Firstly, this story will focus on romance first and foremost. The main character will be Hermione Granger and there will be romantic interest in her not by one but by many female characters.

**Hermione x multiple female characters. **

As you can see this story is aimed at a mature audience. There will be a lot of smut and sex in this story; the situations Hermione will be involved in will be unique and I am hoping never before seen in any previous Harry Potter story. I'm going to be quite creative to say the least.

Hermione will be involved with eight other female characters. I am not going to reveal the identity of these characters because I want you to figure them out as the story progresses. However, feel free to make suggestions for characters you want to see included in this story. They would have to be female, and if a particular character is heavily favoured then I will include them in the story.

For fans of a good story; I'm hoping the forthcoming plot will be to your liking. I am trying to write a smutty story with the inclusion of an interesting plot… only time will tell if I succeed.

I know a big question for you readers out there will be: how did Hermione come to be a succubus and how will she be affected by this. Don't worry; you will have your answers in chapters 3 and 4. Updates between chapters may take some time, due to Empty Places being a higher priority, but I'm hoping to make this story just as big. The Succubus will be my second main objective, writing wise.

Chapters will be between 3,000 to 5,000 words unless more detail needs to be included. 3,000 to 5,000 is the target and this will hopefully lessen the time between updates, and I mean hopefully. On another note there will be no male involvement with Hermione, in regards to her romance situation. Harry, Ron and the usual cast will turn up as support but will not be included in the romantic situation; more will be explained in the 4th chapter.

I've probably left a lot of stuff out but I'll cover that during future chapters. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to some very hot scenes that will be coming up soon. All the best and apologies for the writing, it wasn't up to my usual standards but I hope it was still eligible. Any offers for Beta reading will be gladly accepted, I do need the help.

Thanks once again, and I'll be writing soon :D


	2. Chapter 2: Paranoia

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 2: Paranoia.

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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In a small cramped room, on the outskirts of London, Hermione Granger sat on her duvet less bed studying. It was a sight many in Hogwarts had grown used to, and more so expected of the renowned bookworm. She worked in silence, biting her lip whenever she came across a difficult question. In the past these questions would have been few and far between but on this occasion and as evidenced by the soreness of her lip, Hermione was struggling. Often working ahead of her peers, Hermione had reached the end of the syllabus for the New Year and was finding the contents rather overwhelming.

The book which lay before her was an old, encrusted book and considered mandatory for Ancient Runes, according to the book list she received early this year. Of course studying things like; defence against the dark arts or charms could not be achieved while outside the confines of the wizarding world. Hermione was still 16 and therefore unable to perform magic due to the law passed down by the Ministry of Magic. This could easily be worked around once she returned to Hogwarts, but, in the meantime, Hermione would busy herself with the theoretical aspects of all her subjects.

"So, then…? No, that's not right." Hermione murmured, aggravated by the lack of clarity this book offered.

Flicking the page over, her fingers covered in pen ink, Hermione scrawled some notes down on a sheet of paper beside her. On occasion, when her mind could not decipher a puzzle, Hermione would often write down her musings on a spare piece of paper. Ever since she was as little as four Hermione had used this method to solve her problems. These problems didn't just centre solely on study, no; in her earlier days Hermione would document ways of improving her social skills, as well as her confidence.

You may find this surprising, considering Hermione's straightforward nature but there was a time when Hermione was not so confident. There had been times when Hermione was alone, friendless; an outcast because of her remarkable intelligence and her eagerness to answer every question asked of her. Many in her old primary school, when she was educated in the muggle world, saw her as a show off, a teacher's pet while parents saw her as pretentious.

In time, after moving to Hogwarts, and realising she was special, Hermione started to make new friends such as Harry, Ron and eventually Ginny too. They all befriended her of their own fruition and as a result Hermione no longer felt lonely anymore. Finally, Hermione knew what it felt like to be truly valued. The emptiness of her youth became nothing more than a reminder of how far she had come in such a short space of time. The friendships she had forged with Harry, Ron and Ginny were precious. Ginny, in particular, was a unique ray of sunshine in her day.

She couldn't figure out why but she really looked forward to the time they spent together. Perhaps it was because Ginny was her first female friend? Possible. But regardless, unknown to Ginny, Hermione would always count down the days until they would see each other again. As for the boys, well, she found that they would often talk about the same topics and neglect to finish their homework until the last possible minute. An unfortunate pattern which had showed no signs of fixing itself any time soon. Utterly frustrating. But despite all this, Hermione still loved them deeply; both, Harry and Ron were her overly protective brothers and it was something she was increasingly comforted by.

Of course, as a result, her relationship with her parents became strained due to her absence in their lives. But this was something Hermione expected and even hoped to fix later in her life. For now, they were incredibly proud of her, and after being Hermione's strength through much of her youth, they were grateful to see their daughter so happy and full of life. After all, happiness was something that had been missing from her days as a child.

…

Jotting down some more notes to this complex question, Hermione closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and processed all the information she had collected. With each shallow breath Hermione removed all irrelevant data, compiling the information that was important and pushing it to the forefront of her mind. Using her hands Hermione motioned the irrelevant information away and dragged the rest till she could feel her hand scribe the information on the nearby paper. In time comprehension dawned and with a flicker of her eye lids she was back to the present, her page filled with bullet points and text.

Smiling, Hermione put her pen down and stretched her arms into the air. Her back creaked as she made this motion; it seemed sitting in the same place for several hours was not good for one's health. Eyes drawn to the darkness, Hermione looked out the window. Night had fallen and the wind was starting to whip up a frenzy; the bushes in her garden bristling under the relentless pressure. Hermione sat idle and watched nature at work, feeling a certain amount of comfort in the spectacle; she always liked to observe natural phenomena's. It couldn't be considered a hobby but it was certainly a passing fancy; rain, especially, was Hermione's favourite unless she was caught in it of course.

"It must be late; what time is it?"

Having said this, Hermione turned her body and leaned over to fetch her alarm clock. Pushing it around with the tips of her fingers, the clock face read; 01:13. Pondering on this Hermione decided she still had time before bed, and with it being the summer holidays there was no need for an early night. Returning to her textbook, flicking through the pages to reach the contents page, a sudden sound caught her attention and she stilled. Deafening silence passed as her senses heightened, listening out for a repeat of the sound she had heard a moment before. Keeping her breathing to a minimum, Hermione straightened her posture and turned her face to look out the window.

… Nothing.

… Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing, seemingly, out of place.

And yet something felt wrong… something felt very, very wrong. It could have been Hermione's irrational mind playing tricks on her, brought on by her frequent battles with Lord Voldemort and the like, but something was amiss. While surrounded by the familiarity of her home, Hermione felt as if certain things were askew, out of place, in her normal muggle surroundings. An uncomfortable feeling which did not dissipate with the passage of time, in fact, it had the opposite effect. With time came certainty. Something was most definitely wrong and the worst thing of all… Hermione could feel a set of eyes watching her every move.

Unfriendly eyes watching her from the safety and security of their hiding place. The hairs on Hermione's neck bristled and her features, which were usually hardened, crumbled as she tried to maintain the image of an untroubled girl. It was best to keep up pretences, to not let this person know that she was aware of their unsettling stare. That was if she was even being watched at all. Hermione hoped she was wrong and even tried to convince herself of that very fact but she had too much experience of situations like these to be fooled.

As Hermione remained stock still, her eyes trained on the textbook, she felt the oppressive silence rain down on her. The silence made the whole situation feel unnatural. It was common for birds to nestle in the trees outside her window, braving the weather to whistle their favourite tunes, but they didn't come today. She expected to hear the sounds of the wind as it whipped the branches of a tree against her window, but the expected sound never came. Even when leaves brushed against the window, no sound came. Nothing.

… Everything was silent.

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Then, just as suddenly as the sounds evaporated from existence, they gradually began to return. The familiar sounds of wind rustling through the trees could be heard, before the sound of a car's horn cut through the silence like a blade. Everything had returned to normal, and yet Hermione wasn't convinced. Glancing towards her suitcase, used primarily for her stay at Hogwarts, Hermione vied up all possible options.

1). She could ignore the noises she heard before and go about her business untroubled?

2). She could take up arms and stay up all night until the danger had passed?

3). She could turn off the light and wait an hour before giving up and going back to bed?

4). Or, she could go downstairs lock every door and inspect the house all the way to its foundation.

In the end, and after careful deliberation, Hermione went with option four. She would go downstairs and inspect the house as thoroughly as she was able, and, if she did happen to come across an intruder then she would ensure her safety before all else. Under age magic or not Hermione would ensure her safety and the safety of her family… whenever they returned.

Fortunately for Hermione, her parents were not actually in the house today. Circumstances dictated that they would be needed elsewhere; attending a wedding with a close personal friend who worked at their dental practice. Hermione had met this friend, Cecilia, only a couple of times and the last she had seen of her Hermione had been on the cusp of turning eleven. She did not need to attend and was, in fact, given the option of whether to go or not and she rightly choose the latter. Otherwise, well, she would have felt like a wedding crasher who had no reason to be there other than to fill a seat.

No, her time would be much better spent studying and increasing her knowledge in the subjects she would be learning for this year. Hermione had been as productive as ever over the holiday and that would not change no matter the circumstances. Her parents were, notably, aggrieved by this as they wanted to spend more time with their daughter and Hermione tried to make time for familial bonding but it was tough. Just like Cecilia and all other family friends, Hermione did not know her parents well and in some respects she was as distant with them as she would be with any stranger. She hardly knew her parents anymore, her vibrant life in the wizarding world had left her detached from the muggle one and thus her family too.

But Hermione promised herself, and hoped, that she could rectify this in time. Her parents had been an integral part of her youth and she never wanted to lose the bond they shared… but now was not the time to be concerned by that. She was getting distracted, her troubled mind rushing to topics which had no relation to her situation and only helped to leave her unprepared.

As the sounds persisted, and to her ears increased in volume, Hermione leaned over to her lamp and turned the light off, closing the blinds as she did so. Due to the familiarity of the room, Hermione easily navigated past the piles of paper on the floor, the chair resting beside her bed before arriving at her opened suitcase. Reaching inside, Hermione pulled out her wand from the small compartment and stood. Now fully equipped, Hermione tiptoed towards her bedroom door and gently nudged it open. The only sounds that reached Hermione's ears were the scratches of the branches against her bedroom window, and with this understanding she proceeded on wards.

Arriving at the first door, her parent's room, Hermione whipped it open and pointed her wand through the darkness. To her relief no movement could be seen further in, the room lit up adequately by the moonlight which only ever seemed to reach her parents room. Breathing in Hermione moved forward turning on the light and searching every crevice within her parent's room, but there were no signs that anything had been tampered with. A good sign. Maybe it really was just her mind playing tricks on her.

Closing the door Hermione marched forward, subtlety in her movements gone as she threw open door after door with no signs of an intruder to speak of. All that was left was the kitchen, where the back door could be found. That damn door had caused Hermione no endless grief, not only was it faulty, opening without the need of a key, but it was also decaying by the day. Hermione had begged her parents to mend or replace it but they always said the same thing.

"There's no need to spend money on fixing that door, we're struggling financially as it is. It has served us well in the past and I see no reason to get rid of it now."

Hermione only hoped it was closed because if it was open then that could mean one of two things. Either the door had opened of its own fruition, forced open by the gale outside, or it had been opened from the outside with a little human strength. The latter was what worried her the most; even with a wand in her hand, a thief could easily jump her when she least expected. She was hardly the strongest of people and she would be easily overpowered. Without a wand Hermione would be completely defenceless and left to the mercy of the perpetrators whims.

… She had to move silently now.

… Her ears were tuned to even the slightest hint of movement.

… Hermione had purposely lowered her rate of breathing and calmed her beating heart.

She would be prepared no matter what happened.

Moving back through the corridor, her wand pointed in front of her, Hermione reached the entrance to the kitchen. Keeping close to the wall Hermione listened out for any sounds further in; the sounds of the wind greeting her ears but nothing else. With one final exhale, her grip tightening around her wand, Hermione spun around and looked into the kitchen.

… It was empty.

… And, better yet, the door was closed.

"It was nothing," Hermione murmured, lowering her wand as she stared through to the kitchen. "It was just my imagination. What has gotten into me?"

Taking some precious few seconds to berate herself, Hermione stowed her wand back into the pocket of her shorts and left the kitchen. Turning off the lights in the living room and corridor Hermione marched upstairs, yawning as exhaustion finally caught up with her. It seemed six hours of sleep a day was not cutting it and she would need to get to sleep pronto or risk drooling on an open book again.

Stepping through her bedroom door, Hermione turned to close it behind her when she was suddenly halted in her steps. Standing before her, at a height of about 6'0, was a cloaked figure with feminine features and yellow eyes. The woman was immensely beautiful; her hair flowing an unnatural red, eyes intoxicating to those who chanced a glance at them, her skin crystal white and appearing smooth to the touch. And yet, most heart rendering of all was what all these things amounted to.

Individually they were beautiful but collectively they were simply breath-taking. In fact, beauty was not a word worthy enough to describe such a creature; this woman had clearly been blessed by a goddess. A well-proportioned body - from what little could be made through the thin layer of fabric which kept her modest - and features which were seductive and yet fierce all at the same time. Could such a woman really exist?

Of course, in this instance, Hermione did not have time to process all this and the only word that was screaming through her mind was 'Danger.' This woman had appeared in her room without even a sound. The house was securely locked and yet this woman had somehow managed to smuggle herself inside without setting off any alarms. There could only be one explanation for such a feat; this woman was clearly no muggle. In fact, if Hermione deduced correctly, from her appearance and strong aura, this woman was no witch either. It was only a stab in the dark but Hermione was almost sure that the woman was a mythical creature of some sort. Which one? She did not know, but whatever she was… she shouldn't have been here.

"W-What?" Hermione murmured, eyes widening as the woman turned her yellow eyes on her.

Staggering backwards, her hands reaching into the pocket of her shorts, Hermione pulled out her wand and rounded on the stranger. But, before Hermione could even utter a single incantation, her hands were swiftly grabbed… the grip forcing her wand to slip through her fingers. The sound of her wand hitting the floorboard awakened Hermione to her predicament; she was being held, defenceless, and now at the mercy of this stranger. Attempting to struggle out of this woman's hold, Hermione could feel the stranger's grip around her wrists falter.

"G-Get off me! Get your hands off me!"

Then, as suddenly as the words had left her mouth, Hermione was pulled against the woman until their bodies were flush against each other. Shocked by this act, and the bountiful breasts pressing against her own developing chest, Hermione stiffened in the hold. Taking advantage of this the woman wrapped her arm around Hermione's shoulders, and her hand fell to her chin. The contact forced Hermione to look up into those beautiful eyes once more, the woman's breath fanning her cheeks while they stared at one another. Hermione's body growing weaker by the second.

They stared over long, deep into each other's eyes before Hermione shook at the change of expression that had come across the woman's features. The woman's previously passive face had turned stern at the flip of a coin, eyes appearing angry although Hermione believed she had no right to be.

…

And then, in a completely unexpected turn of events, the woman leaned forward and captured Hermione's lips in hers. A stranger, someone Hermione had never even heard of before, had taken away her first kiss. And what's more…

…

… Hermione liked it.

…

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Author's Note:

WOW! When I submitted this story I never expected it to receive such an amazing following. Thank you all so much :) I honestly thought it wouldn't receive much interest or attention because there are so many great stories out there already but I was wrong. Well, I'm more than happy to be wrong on this occasion :P I just hope I can continue to impress you in the forthcoming chapters.

I was also happy to see reviewers suggesting characters for inclusion to my story. Daphne Greengrass was mentioned, Tonks, Ginny (Sorry to one of my reviewers but she has to be included in the romance struggle.) and several others too. Very interesting! They will all be considered for inclusion unless they are already one of the eight characters vying for Hermione's affections.

More suggestions for characters would be greatly appreciated. I want to know which character I might have left out but in a way that doesn't reveal the eight most important characters. Also thanks to all my reviewers in general; your comments were very kind and I can't thank you guys and gals enough!

Well, anyway, the next chapter of this story will be up sometime next week I hope. Although, it won't be up as fast as the second chapter of this story. In fact, I wrote and published Chapter 2 of The Succubus a lot earlier than I had expected. The response to the story made it necessary for me to give the fans something to read. I hope this chapter is to your satisfaction and is not too rushed!

Thank you all once again and I hope to hear from you soon :D

Also for fans of this story I would suggest having a look at my other Harry Potter related stories. 'A Serpent's Lament', especially as the plan for the story is my favourite plot wise.


	3. Chapter 3: I have returned!

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 3: I have returned.

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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"Mmm?!" Hermione groaned; eyes glaringly open – eyebrows reaching her fringe - as she stared into the closed eye lids of the stranger. A stranger whose lips were deeply connected to that of Hermione's, the space never growing as the older woman pulled the brunette closer.

… And all Hermione could do was watch in horror.

In all this, Hermione remained stock still; her fingers spread and outstretched while the woman's taste engulfed her mouth. Her arms bristled at the contact; an unpleasant shiver running down her spine as this stranger pressed on further not letting up and kissing deeply. This had to be a dream? No, not a dream, a nightmare! It was the only way to explain this terrible situation. And yet, Hermione felt moistening lips pressing against her with a feverish intensity.

… Her once chaffed lips became soft and malleable to the woman's touch.

… The woman's heavy breathing sending a pleasant tingle down her spine.

And yet this felt wrong! So very wrong!

This wasn't how her first kiss was supposed to be!

…

Hermione was hardly an asexual creature - although she rarely gave the subject consideration in her spare time – so, she had always imagined her first kiss being shared in a romantic setting. Sunset or moonlight; the scene changed on occasion but the kiss remained integral to the piece. Of course, the identity of the person she kissed was always a mystery; not having met a suitable candidate in her early life. But that didn't mean the hope wasn't still there; it had been there since her mother had sat her down on her lap and read stories of princes and princesses.

The kiss was supposed to be special, and now it felt tainted.

This was not how she had envisioned her first kiss. She had never even considered the possibility that her first kiss could be stolen from her, and taken by a woman no less. The fact that her first kiss was taken by a woman didn't trouble Hermione; she was, after all, quite open to the idea. But the fact that it was stolen in the first place; now that not only troubled her but it also enraged her too.

Finally feeling her body jostle back to life, Hermione raised her hands and tried to pull the stranger away by the collar of her neck. This action succeeded at first, the woman's lips detaching with a wet pop, but once her lips were freed the woman busied them again. Her lips now being kissed once again, Hermione groaned her protest and gripped the sleeve of the woman's robe. No effect. The woman was supernaturally strong and easily ignored Hermione's attempts at pulling away.

"W-What are you do…?" Hermione struggled, her lips being followed by the woman's who did not allow for movement or breathing it seemed. Gasping under the scrutiny Hermione yanked her head away… but this act only gave her a moment of respite. Because, with another tug towards her, Hermione fell into the strangers body and her lips became occupied once more.

"S-Stop… Stop it!" Hermione protested, her laboured breathing causing no end of pain. She could hardly breathe; this strange woman was abnormally persistent and did not allow for protests or the simple act of breathing. The heat from the woman's body made Hermione feel uneasy, strange warmth that placated her need to escape. This wasn't normal. Why did she feel like the warmth was drawing her in? The older woman's lip tasting sweeter and sweeter by the second as they easily parted through Hermione's meagre resistance.

Hermione could feel the fight leaving her body, a most strange occurrence as she had proven, more than once, that she not only had Gryffindor courage but also the fortitude to never give up. This wasn't the way Hermione would react. She wouldn't just give in and succumb to the taste of this woman. Some supernatural force was playing with her mind; clouding her judgement and masking her thoughts from view.

This knowledge gave her a new ounce of life, and a desire to distance herself from this woman for not only her protection but for the protection of her virtue too. Pulling back, gasping a shuddering breath, Hermione held the woman at bay but like all times before her resistance proved futile. And with one lick to moisten her sore lips, Hermione could feel the softness envelop her all over again. This stranger took no chances this time and held Hermione's head in place, deepening the kiss with a remarkable dexterity, her tongue parting her lips as Hermione could only grimace.

Squirming in place, Hermione felt the hold around her body tighten, resulting in the stranger's bountiful breasts crashing against her own. A lack of air was beginning to become a concern but the stranger allowed her small moments of respite until she pushed Hermione to the brink all over again. A repetitious and seemingly endless cycle but according to the clock no more than two minutes had passed but to Hermione it must have seemed like hours.

"Enough!" Hermione forced, gasping desperately for what little air she could find. "Get off me! Enough!"

But the woman did not rest and what's more she returned her attention to the delicious prospect of Hermione's lips. Fighting valiantly Hermione pushed against the strangers shoulder and managed to pull her face away, taking deep and hurried breaths as she did so. Unfortunately, the cycle continued anew, and with one hand the stranger pushed the back of Hermione's head and pressed her lips against the brunette once more.

She couldn't escape. No matter how hard she tried, or how often, Hermione could not get away. This realisation was confirmed when Hermione felt saliva run down her chin, whether hers or the strangers Hermione really didn't want to know. The kiss, even to Hermione's traumatised mind, was nice and the woman even more beautiful. A skilled kisser without a doubt and yet this information only made Hermione feel that much worse. She felt sick… physically sick to her stomach but there was no bile to bring forth. Hermione almost wished there was because it might have gotten her away from this revolting experience; she'd have tried anything at this point.

As the woman reconnected their lips once more, the strangers tongue lapping against Hermione's, the latter could only form the basis of questions. Who was this woman? Why was she being kissed so deeply by a complete and utter stranger?

… Why did the woman's presence feel so familiar?

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Suddenly, and with a great force, Hermione was pushed back until her back made contact with the bedroom wall – all questions disappearing in an instant. To her horror, Hermione felt the woman hoist her up in the air, pressing her high against the wall, her feet dangling precariously. The kiss was reignited, the sweet yet utterly displeasing kiss that Hermione was trying desperately to escape. In a moment of sheer panic Hermione bit down hard on the stranger's tongue, which had been rubbing against her gums and the woman only moaned. This moan was not of a pained sort, no, it was far worse, the moan was of a feral nature; pleasure incarnate.

Her tongue now ceased by Hermione's teeth, the stranger pressed her body intimately close to that of the brunette's, their bodies flush against each other. Feeling the fight drain from her body, Hermione succumbed to the exhaustion. Several minutes had passed - seven minutes in total – and the brunette reclined against the stranger, completely at the whims of her assailant. She was motionless but that didn't mean the older woman gave up any ground, oh no, in fact it was quite the opposite. The stranger tightened her hold around Hermione's lower back, the brunette's legs resting either side of her hips, while the woman's tongue inspected the root of her mouth.

In Hermione's comatose state she could feel the woman's every move. When the woman's tongue slid across her front teeth, Hermione felt it. When the woman drew her hips away from Hermione's core, she sensed it. And, when the woman began to caress and rub every pore of her shapely form… Hermione shivered in disgust.

… This wasn't real.

… This couldn't be real.

… It had to be a nightmare.

… She'd wake up soon, alone and afraid but safe.

… Any moment now.

… Any moment…

Her wishes were painfully silenced when the stranger, releasing Hermione's lips - a finger trailing along them one last time – bit into Hermione's lower lip, drawing blood.

The shock jostled Hermione back into consciousness, her senses reawakening to the surreal sensation of the stranger sucked deeply on her bloodied lip. The woman's entire mouth now encased Hermione's lower lip, and every time she tried to pull away it only succeeded in pulling her sore lip to its limit. The stranger refused to let go, she would not let go until she was fully sated.

Now, in a state similar to an out of body experience, Hermione felt the strangers tongue slide across the swollen cut on her lip. The blood matted her chin and that of the strangers too; but the latter did not seem to mind. After licking the cut, as thoroughly as possible, the stranger returned to sucking on Hermione's lower lip, drawing out the blood which was contained within.

Struggling against the strangers hold once more, a feeble attempt to escape going unfounded, Hermione digested this entire situation. She was disgusted, naturally, and horrified by what was happening to her but the kiss made this experience so much worse. In some twisted way, and despite her lip becoming bloodied, the kiss still retained its softness and it wasn't entirely unpleasant. That made the situation even more unpleasant though, her thoughts continued to betray her because deep down she didn't want this. These thoughts weren't her own they felt foreign, as if her mind was being invaded by another presence entirely. She couldn't think straight and any attempt at rational thought seemed to bear no fruit.

Pulling away, the red haired woman held Hermione's chin in her open palm and stared deep into her eyes. Unfamiliar green eyes now stared into mocha brown, and even Hermione couldn't deny the beauty that seemed to pour from this goddess's eyes. She really was beautiful but at this moment Hermione could not have cared less. This woman had taken her first kiss and in some senses her first sexual experience, although the woman had not gone beyond kissing and heavy petting… at least for now.

Meanwhile, noticing the blood on Hermione's chin the stranger drew her tongue out and collected the remaining droplets, savouring the taste to the brunette's horror. Why was she doing this? This thought raced through Hermione's mind but she had little time to deliberate on this matter further.

…

In a slow, almost caring motion, the stranger manoeuvred Hermione's body on top of her bed. The mattress conformed to her feminine shape until she now found herself resting comfortably; her body still, her breathing shallow. Hermione simply stared upwards, into the ceiling, all other forms of communication lost to her as a new sensation swept over her. But what was it? Hermione could not attach a name to this feeling but she could feel it rising from her gut, heating her body.

… What was happening to her?

Once confident that the brunette was comfortable, the stranger sat beside Hermione and leaned over so that they now faced each other. Their breath intermingled, a sweet fragrance intertwined, before the familiar taste of this stranger was upon her again. Hermione struggled at first, instinct demanding that she fight and protect herself at all costs but nothing seemed to work. As the stranger deepened the kiss, a gentle side showing through, Hermione noticed her wand beside her bed and stretched to take it. How it had moved from the floor to the bed was anyone's guess but Hermione didn't question, she was desperate enough to do anything. As her hand fumbled with its edge, flicking the wand further away from her, inadvertently, the stranger caught on and caught Hermione's wrist when she finally grabbed the handle. Taking the wand out of Hermione's reach, the stranger finally spoke for the first time since the unexpected kiss, almost ten minutes ago.

"I have to be sure, please be patient."

The voice was soft and yet aggressive all at the same time. An impossible combination and yet that was the only opinion Hermione could draw from. Once again the voice caused a strange sensation to wash over her; a feeling of security and familiarity. Something she was most certainly not used to considering her only friends; Ron, Harry and Ginny, were the only people she trusted with her life. So, why did she trust this woman when she asked her to be patient?

She would certainly not kiss back, Hermione felt disgusted every time this beautiful creature placed her lips against her but she would endure if need be. As long as things didn't go too far; she would not fight this woman's advances. She… trusted this woman? Yes, for some reason she did and despite the situation Hermione allowed the woman the benefit of the doubt.

Allowing the woman to kiss her Hermione began to feel a sudden rush of fatigue; her eye lids drooped, her breathing became laboured and her body grew weak. A short while later Hermione began to wheeze, the stranger taking note of this and halting the kiss immediately. Hurriedly the stranger held the brunette's face in her hands and returned her gaze to mocha eyes, the woman's features stern and expecting.

"Change!" the woman commanded. "Change! Change! Change!"

Eyes focused on Hermione, the stranger repeated this word like a mantra. Hermione wasn't sure what was being said, it was all white noise to her ears but by the expression on the older woman's face something had happened. Only, what was it? Why did she look so happy, relieved… excited?

"It's true," the stranger murmured, mouth agape. "It really is you!"

Then suddenly, and with what looked like tears in her eyes, the stranger wrapped Hermione in her arms. Hermione, meanwhile, listening to the sounds of the stranger's relief and happiness, was left completely dumbstruck. The woman muttered things, undiscernible things which made no sense to her equally traumatised mind.

"Um," Hermione mumbled, her voice wavering as she opted to converse with this tearful woman. "What's h-happening? W-Who are you?"

Surprised, the older woman leaned back to look at the young brunette. "'What happened?' Didn't you feel it? The temporal shift? The subtle changes in your environment… nothing?"

"I… um,"

"It might just take time," the stranger continued, unaware that she had interrupted the brunette. "The changes will happen. Your eyes proved it."

"My eyes?" Hermione repeated, feeling like a primary schooler taking an exam geared towards High school students. "What about my eyes?"

"They changed, sweetie. Your eyes used to be mocha brown but now they are like mine, look."

Having said this, the woman closed her eyes, and Hermione waited feeling a little unnerved by the spectacle. The woman didn't move, her features set in concentration, and her eyes remaining closed as they fluttered unnaturally. Then when Hermione was about to interrupt, with another question of her own, the stranger's eyes flickered open and what was once green had turned golden once more.

"Do you see," the woman said. "My eyes changed. These eyes that you see here are exactly the same as your eyes now. Don't you see? You are one of us."

"One of you? Are you saying…? No, I'm a muggle-born. You've made a mistake."

Turning serious, the stranger looked towards the locked window before returning her gaze to Hermione. "I'm afraid not. You are one of us; there is no denying that now. I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about? You think you can just barge into my house, shag me and then tell me some ridiculous story, and you think I'll just buy it? Do you even know me? I was conceived by my parents – muggles - and looked after and cared for by them. "

"They are not your real parents. Well, actually one…"

"Rubbish!" Hermione interrupted, fuming as she stared down the older woman. "We look nothing alike and I know who my real parents are. Get out! I will not listen to this any longer!"

"Listen to me! You are one of us and I'll prove it! When we kissed," Ignoring Hermione's grimace, the red head ventured on. "Did you not feel something? A familiarity of sorts? A strange indescribable feeling in your stomach followed by warmth the likes of which you had never felt before."

Stiffening Hermione tried to keep a passive expression. She had felt all those things, in abundance, but, nevertheless, Hermione still refused to cave to this harlot's convoluted story. It was a lie! Everything about her story was a lie!

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You can't fool me little girl," the stranger said, almost menacingly. "Regardless of whether you felt our connection or not, your eyes give you away. A person's eye cannot change colour on their own, you have a unique gift. A gift which is an innate trait passed down through our kind. There's no escaping the truth, you are no mere muggle."

Panicked, Hermione pushed forward with a response. "L-Lies! It's a trick! My eyes haven't changed colour, you're just saying that!"

"Oh, give me strength!" the older woman groaned, grabbing Hermione by the shoulders and positioning her in front of the full length mirror. "You see, your eyes are golden. This is not a trick and I speak no word of a lie. Now would you grow up and behave like an adult, I honestly expected better from you."

Stunned, Hermione stared into her full length mirror and what she saw frightened her to the core. In place of mocha brown eyes was a sharp golden tint overpowering to her eyes alone, the brightness causing Hermione to close her eyes and face away from the mirror. "No," Hermione stuttered, golden eyes scanning her room for anything she could cling on to as her own. "No, I am a muggle. My parents are here and I was born and raised in London. I will not buy into your story. This is magic, isn't it! So, what did you do? Poison my breakfast when I wasn't looking? Am I under a spell? Come on, out with it!"

With a look of disappointment, the red haired goddess responded. "I have cast no spell on you. See, I didn't even come equipped with a wand. And as for drugging you, I am sorry to say that I am inept at potions. I wouldn't know where to even start to brew any such potion; in fact, you'd probably know more about it than me."

"Making a potion isn't that hard, even a novice could procure one."

Laughing at the young girl's desperation, the red haired beauty couldn't deny her urges and without asking for approval Hermione was swept up in a hug. "H-Hey? What are you…?" But Hermione's worry was tampered slightly when the older woman began to gently rock her from side to side.

Her chin resting on the top of Hermione's head, the stranger sighed deeply. "I have done nothing to you, sweetie. I hope, in time, you will understand. Your home is not here in London. But with me, and my clan, you will learn to accept this one day and I look forward to the day you return to us."

"You speak of clans rather than families. You aren't just a witch are you?"

Surprised, the goddess stopped her motions and glanced down at the small girl. "Very astute of you! No, I am not, as you put it, 'just a witch.' I'm not a witch at all, in fact."

"I thought as much."

Smiling, the stranger nudged Hermione to continue. "You sound very sure of yourself. Keep going; let's see if you can figure me out."

"W-What?"

"Go on," the stranger laughed, eyes glowing with… pride? "Impress me."

"Uh, okay!" Hermione mumbled, at a loss for how they had reached this point. Well, it beat being kissed by this woman so Hermione felt more than relieved when she was allowed to venture on. "Well, I can tell, just by gauging my own exhaustion, that you have some sort of ability which incapacitates your victim."

"Possible, but how do you know I'm not just a really good kisser?"

Grimacing at the memory, and the taste of her lips, Hermione replied. "I don't want to even think about that. And you value your skills far too highly; it was not an enjoyable experience."

"If you say so," the stranger said with a teasing glint. "So, keep going. What else do you have for me?"

"Well, through a process of elimination I've managed to narrow down my search to magical creatures alone. More importantly, creatures who are not averse to sex or who are simply incapable of controlling their urges," Ignoring the stranger's quirked eyes brow, Hermione continued. "This left me with a few options, but it was the side effects of the kiss that sold it for me. Dizziness, loss of cognitive functions, loss of strength; these could only mean one thing. You are a succubus."

Mouth hanging open, the stranger could only clap at Hermione's accurate deduction. "I… wow! I heard you were special but I never thought… Yes, you are right, I am a succubus, and as it happens so are you,"

"I am not…"

Silencing Hermione with a finger against her lips, the stranger spoke. "There is no mistake. You are a succubus and do you know how I know this?"

"H-how?"

"Because it was destined. I have been looking for you since the day you were born. And now… here you are! I knew I would find you eventually and my how you have grown. You look just like her?"

Blinking in bewilderment, Hermione responded. "I look like who, exactly?"

"Your mother, silly," the red head replied, chuckling at Hermione's cute expression. "You look just like her, taste just like her. Exquisite!"

Confused, Hermione asked. "I'm sorry but who are you? And what do you mean I taste like my mother!?"

Surprised by Hermione's outburst, the red heads features softened and she tried to cup the brunette's cheek but Hermione pulled away upon contact. This would not be easy, the stranger thought bitterly.

"I see, you haven't been told. Well… this might very well come as a shock to you,"

"I doubt you could do anything more to shock me than you already have!" Hermione piped up, memories of before playing through her mind.

Unconcerned by the young girl's outburst, the stranger continued unabated. "And you have to understand that there is no room for interpretation here. The kiss, the blood… they all confirm what I am about to tell you."

"They confirm what exactly? Spit it out!"

"Hmm, it seems impatience runs in the family." The stranger mused, a sigh leaving her lips as she looked at Hermione.

"Runs in the…? What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid… we are of the same blood."

…

…

"W-what?"

Smiling, leaning forward till their faces were an inch apart the stranger whispered. "That's right, I am your mother. More specifically… your **other** mother."

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Author's Note: Alright, now before you bite my head off and call me a disgusting pervert please understand where I am going with this story. I'm going to try and explain this most recent twist about the succubus being Hermione's mother and the fact that they were kissing not ten minutes before.

Alright… For starters, I think we can all agree on one irrefutable fact; a succubus is an incredibly sexual creature. In fact, in some folklore tales that I dug up, a succubus's mere nature is to feed off the life force that is produced during sex. Feeding off the pheromone's in much the same way humans eat and drink to survive. So, after reading through many succubus related works, I came to realise something about the image they present in the tales. To me it seemed as if a succubus knew no boundaries; there would be no line they would not cross to sate their hunger.

Let me ask you this: Would a succubus deny itself food when it was freely available?

… As a human, would you turn down food if it looked delicious?

No!

So, my answer, in regards to the succubus, would be no because there kind are not concerned by what is morally right or wrong. If they find something they like then they acquire it through any means at their disposal, sometimes through mental suggestion or control. More info on the succubus's powers will be revealed in the next chapter so I can't really talk more about this.

I also thought that the human culture compared to that of a succubus's might be very different. In fact, one of the purposes of 'The Succubus' was to analyse and explore the succubus culture and highlight the differences it possess. My interpretation of their culture may be wrong in your eyes, they don't exist of course but we all have our own opinions on things.

In my opinion, succubus's are not concerned by bloodlines or the status of mother, daughter and sister. They are driven by desire, lust, control, domination; that is how I interpret their kind. Furthermore, Hermione's mother had an entirely different purpose when she was kissing her daughter… I wonder what she was doing? Some of you may have figured it out but I'm interested to see if any of you have :D

Well, apologies for the really poorly written response on my part. I had a defence in my head but when I came to write it, it felt like I was trying to convince myself more then you, the reader. I have a target for this story and before you ask no, Hermione's mother will not be one of the eight pursuers of Hermione. Hermione's mother has been included for one purpose and that purpose has been fulfilled; more on this in future chapters.

Well, anyway, please feel free to write to me about any concerns you have. I will try to alleviate them as best I can and I promise you all… there will be no more incest in this story for those who feel squeamish at the thought. There will still be sex and other equally erotic things, don't you worry I have most certainly got you covered in that department, but those will come in time. Anyway stay safe and I hope you enjoyed Chapter 3 of The Succubus.


	4. Chapter 4: Who am I?

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 4: Who am I?

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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"You're my what?" Hermione shrieked.

"Your mother. Did you not hear me girl?" The Succubus responded, arms crossing below her breast.

"Y-You're… You're my… my mother?"

"That is correct," the woman replied, her voice trailing at Hermione's expression. "Are you okay? You're looking a little pale."

Shocked, eyes gaping, Hermione retreated several paces, staring at the woman who had made such an outlandish declaration. This woman… was her mother? No! This couldn't be happening! The idea was completely absurd! Ludicrous! She already had a mother and a caring and loving mother at that.

Her mother's name was **Ellen Granger**, and she was her one and only mother. It had been Ellen who had supported her throughout her childhood, through the good times and bad… not this woman. It had been Ellen who had allowed Hermione the independence she craved, the opportunity to leave her home to study in the magical world of Hogwarts. This other woman, the one who spoke of a familial bond, was not her mother… could never be her mother.

This woman had never been there through the hard times, had never comforted her when she was bullied in primary school. She had never done the things a mother would do, like her own true mother had. How dare she claim to be something she was not! Ellen Granger was the woman who gave birth to her, the pictures she had seen acting as proof. Hermione did not know this woman, having never even met her before.

Who was this woman?

"W-Who are you?" Hermione stuttered, anger bubbling to the surface.

Confused, the Succubus turned her gaze away from the room she had been inspecting and directed her attention to her daughter. She could see the tension in her daughter's body, her flushed face and her fists clenched till they were were white. What was she up to? Furthermore, what was with this reaction?

"Excuse me?" The succubus replied, calmly but with an edge of impatience.

"Who are you?"

"Like I said before… I am you're…"

"WHO ARE YOU!?" Hermione screamed, her facial features becoming jagged and angry.

Unconcerned, the Succubus crossed her arms below her chest once again and stared at Hermione. The woman did not speak for some time, merely looking at Hermione, eye to eye. Neither flinched, Hermione's eyes were burning with a hatred unmatched but they did little to dissuade the Succubus who did not look perturbed in the least. She looked almost amused, in her own element if such a thing could exist.

"I am your mother!" The woman stated before her features hardened. "And a word of warning; I do not like repeating myself. If you ask me this again then I will lose my patience with you. You do not want that."

"You're not my mother!" Hermione spat back, the gold tint in her eyes growing darker.

"I am your mother, and what's more I have grown tired of your attitude, now," The Succubus murmured, a hand aloft. "Sit and be quiet."

"I will not…"

Then, before Hermione could muster another word in defiance, her legs suddenly buckled and she fell against her bedroom floor. Surprised, Hermione looked up and watched as the stranger turned away from her and returned her attention to gaze upon her room once more. Taking in the environment where her daughter had lived, slept and dreamed for (age) wonderful years.

"Sit silently and do not move from that spot. As much as I have missed you, dear daughter of mine, I would rather not hear you speak for a moment."

"What makes you think I'll do as you say?" Hermione stuttered, struggling against some invisible barrier that pressed down against her lips.

"You don't really have much choice in the matter, do you? I am your mother and because of that I hold power over you," The Succubus turned back to face Hermione, eyes pierced at the unexpected response her daughter had given. Surely she knew! Her daughter, Hermione Granger, the supposed smartest witch of her age, must have known about their bond.

Looking closely - their faces centre metres apart - it didn't take long for the Succubus to recognize the confusion which appeared on her daughter's face. And with this knowledge firmly lodged in her mind, a smile slowly spread to her luscious lips and laughter echoed from her opened mouth.

"You- You don't even know, do you? About our connection? Nothing?" The woman said, laughing so hard that she clutched at her stomach to quell the tension. "Oh my little sweetie, it's quite simple. If I truly wished it I could control your every action, like a puppet on a string. I could make you dance to my tune if I so desired. But do not worry… I have no wish to control something so beautiful."

"You don't control me! What are you talking about?"

"I'm afraid I can control you. In fact, I could decide every action you make, control your every thought if I so wished it. I could make you do anything I wished, all because I have power over you."

"What power?"

"Why, our bond of course. My power over you comes from our bond. It is an innate trait among our people," The Succubus said, a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "To ensure the safety of our children we have the ability to manipulate their cognitive functions. This connection only works one way though. Only a mother can control their daughter, it doesn't work the other way around."

"Why would you control your own kind?"

"Our kind, darling, our kind," The Succubus reminded, tapping Hermione's nose which every uttered word. "And I wouldn't call it control, more like mental suggestion. You see our kind are born and bred with certain cravings and these craving often lead us down a much too dangerous path. So, we adapted, we forced change where none would be had for many years."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean, dear one, is that we couldn't wait for evolution to catch up. If we waited, our kind would have died out many years ago. So, to avoid this unpleasant ending, we created a doctrine that has since become law among our kind. We exist for one single purpose, now, and do you know what that is?"

"Copulation?"

Laughing, a modest and yet beautiful sound issuing forth, the Succubus returned her gaze to Hermione. Lost in the moment, and the beauty of her daughter's eyes, the Succubus caressed the brunette's cheeks with her thumb, the touch feather light and almost loving. Hermione too, almost lost herself in the moment but she was awakened by the older woman's voice once more.

"No, silly. We exist to survive… our one single purpose in life is to survive, and by any means necessary. We groom our young to continue this tradition but for this to be accomplished many of our young must be… tamed first."

"Tamed?"

"Yes, unfortunately our young have a harder time controlling their impulses and often fall pray to their desires. We have lost many. Too many…"

"But I have no such desires. I've never felt anything like that before. So how could I be a Succubus?" Hermione said, her breath hitching as the woman knelt before her, her legs going either side of hers till the Succubus was, effectively, straddling her.

Smiling, her arms going around Hermione's neck, the Succubus continued. "You never fell prey to you desires because… well, you never had any."

"What?"

"You're a halfblooded Succubus, sweetie. There are certain drawbacks and this just happens to be one of them."

"Stop talking in riddles. I can't understand if you don't explain things to me."

Laughing, the Succubus leaned forward and breathed in Hermione's fragrance… the familiarity washing over her, calming her. "Fine then! I will explain everything to you, honey."

"A halfblooded Succubus cannot feel love, it simply can't. I wouldn't call it an emotionless husk because it can feel pain and joy, just as any human can, but it cannot feel amorous love. That part is cut off from the half-blood because of the mixture of blood in their veins," The Succubus remarked, sighing at the confusion written on Hermione's face. "A half-blood can only exist… unless awakened it can never truly love."

"Awakened? What is that?"

"The awakening? It's a very sacred ritual amongst our kind. So scared that only high ranking officials can obtain such a thing. Through the awakening a Succubus can claim ownership of a half-blood they have sired, and awaken the blood that lays dormant within them. This way the half-blooded would become like us, just without any of the drawbacks attached."

Snuggling closer to Hermione, the Succubus kissed the top of her head and smoothed the loose strands of hair which popped up. It was a very loving motion, that of a mother caressing their child but to Hermione it was sickening. The woman's close proximity was strangely disorientating, the feel of her skin burning to the finger tips.

Noticing Hermione's lack of movement, the Succubus looked down and moved a little off her lap. "Sweetie? What's wrong? You haven't asked me a question in the last three seconds. Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine," Hermione snapped, pushing the woman's hand away. "And don't call me sweetie!"

"Then what should I call you?"

"Nothing! I don't want to talk to you anymore. Just leave!"

Sighing, the Succubus wrapped her arms around Hermione and lifted her from the floor. Feet unable to support her body, Hermione was dragged towards her bed and placed carefully on top of it. To say Hermione was light would have been an understatement but the woman did not complain, her kind were known for being unusually light and freakishly strong.

As Hermione rested on the bed, eyes beginning to droop, her comfort was interrupted when she felt the bed conform to a new presence. Directly beside her, and in a silent motion, the Succubus sat on the edge of the bed before quietly stroking her hair, smiling as she did so. The feeling of being cared for was not bad. In fact it was quite nice. The soft trail of the woman's fingertips across her skin was calming, when she stroked her cheek she smiled unexpectedly, what was this feeling?

Whatever this feeling was Hermione liked it and her will to fight drained away because of it, the sounds of her breathing the only thing to reach her ears. "I'm afraid I can't leave you, sweetie. To leave you now would do us both a disservice. I have much to tell you… much to teach you of our kind and you must know it all if you are to survive the change."

"What do you mean? What change?"

"You've been awakened, my dear. I have performed the ritual and now your blood is beginning to awaken. You will become like me… soon."

"W-What!?" Hermione shouted, her daze now completely forgotten as she shot up from the bed. "What do you mean I've been awakened!? When? How?"

"Please, stay calm, now, sweetie. Control is something you will have to learn early. It is an important part of surviving the awakening and I'd much rather not lose my only child."

"I am not your child!"

Exasperated, The Succubus sighed. "Unbelievable. You still don't believe me. Never mind, you will come to believe me in time. But that is not important, right now. You wanted to know about the awakening, right?"

"Yes."

"About what it entails and so on?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, I'll explain everything, but you have to trust me." Having said that the Succubus rolled up her sleeves, looked back at Hermione in pause, and then without another moment's hesitation, dug her nails deep into her skin.

"W-What are you doing?"

Stunned, Hermione grimaced as she watched the older woman grind her nails deeper and further into her skin. The sounds of blood gushing down her arm, sickening to the ear. What was perhaps more uncomfortable though was the Succubus's reaction, or non-reaction in this case. Despite the pain which should have surely been present, the Succubus showed no sign of discomfort.

When the sounds of blood ceased, and the horror in Hermione's expression subsided, the Succubus wiped off her blood stained finger on her sleeve. Noticing the gaping hole in her arm Hermione almost lurched, it was horrible, what the hell was this woman doing? However, before Hermione could battle against the sick rising in her throat, the Succubus turned towards her and snatched her arm, bringing it towards her.

… Then, with a look of remorse, the Succubus plunged her nails into the brunette's skin and Hermione's mouth opened in a scream.

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Screaming, the feel of the Succubus's nails penetrating her skin, Hermione stilled. Mumbling in fear, her eyes widening and mouth whimpering, Hermione looked away from the ceiling and brought her eyes back to her arm. This wasn't right, this wasn't natural. What the hell was going on? Why wasn't there…

Startled, Hermione put her hand on top of the Succubus's. Noticing this the woman stopped her movements and looked back at her daughter, whose eyes were larger than they had ever been. Silence passed between them, only ever interrupted by the sounds of blood dampening the carpet.

"Why is there no pain?"

"There wouldn't be any, not for now, at least," Turning, the Succubus dragged her finger through the blood as she spoke. "For the next few months you will be unable to feel physical pain. The transformation is beginning to take effect but that's not why I opened your arm, look down at the floor."

Following her command Hermione looked down at the floor and saw something that was truly out of this world. The blood was burning? The blood, a liquid… was burning! How was this possible?

Almost on cue the Succubus answered her question without even a glance in her direction, this all seemed mundane to her. "Your blood has reacted to my taste and now the blood that once lay dormant has come to life. This can only be achieved when a mother awakens their daughter. Our blood has become one and in time you will become like us, a Succubus."

"No! I-I'm not…" Hermione stuttered, her voice losing its usual defiance.

"If you do not believe me then read up on my kind. It will clear your mind of any confusion," Returning her attention to the blood, which still burned, The Succubus continued. "The clearest way to find out about your parenthood is through this method. If your blood had not been engulfed by flame then you would not have been my daughter. But as you can see our blood reacted instantly upon contact, the evidence is undeniable… you are my daughter."

"This proves nothing!" Hermione screamed, wrenching her arm from the Succubus's hand. "How does that prove anything!? Our blood was set alight, what the hell does that have to do with me being your daughter!? I am not your daughter!"

"I can understand your confusion, girl," The Succubus replied, her hands tightening. "But do not question our ways. We are different to your kind, to you humans. We have other customs and traditions which would seem alien to you. Our blood, for example, reacts if mixed with that of our children or relatives. I don't know why but it just does. It may seem strange but know that your ways are as foreign to us as ours are to you."

"But it makes no sense."

"I know, my sweet," The Succubus replied, nestling Hermione's head against her chest. "Perhaps, you can find answers in the books you so love; maybe you will find answers there. I know you want to learn more about of my kind but - I'm afraid - that this will have to be a conversation for another time. I did not come here to discuss my people. I came to you for two reasons; One, to complete the ritual, which I have done, and two, to deliver a warning."

"A warning?" Hermione mumbled, her previous exhaustion now a thing of the past. "Am I in danger?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes. With the awakening comes danger but not of a physical kind. There will be no monsters out to get you, no boogie man hiding under your bed every night. But that doesn't mean this danger is no less real." The Succubus replied, rubbing her bottom lip in contemplation.

"What is it? Why do you look so scared?"

"I'm scared because I don't want to lose you. It took me sixteen years to find you and I don't want to lose you ever again, or be the cause of your death. I'm going to protect you as best as I can but the majority of this will come down on your shoulders. You will have to fight against urges you have never felt before, control both your conscious actions and unconscious ones. There is a lot I must teach you but not all can be taught in one night."

Looking wistful, the Succubus cuddled closer to Hermione and kissed the top of her head. "In two weeks your trials will begin. The ritual I performed tonight has only started the change in your blood. In two weeks your whole life will change, as will you," Noticing Hermione's concerned features, she elaborated. "You will still be you only there will be different voices vying for dominance in your brain, attempting to implant suggestion and indoctrinate you to a particular way of thinking."

"And… what happens if I can't control this other voice?"

"Then you will become a slave to its whims. You will hunger for sex and the pheromones we excrete by doing so… And in time… I will be called upon to end your suffering. It is a mother's duty to kill a daughter who falls prey to their desires; it is punishment for our failures. If we cannot guide our children then we must bear the burden of ending the life of what we hold most precious."

"…"

Hermione could not say a thing. What was there to say? If this woman spoke the truth - and as much as she hated to admit it her arguments were sounding more plausible by the second – then she really was this woman's daughter. What happiness could be found in that knowledge? She was daughter to a mother who had abandoned her and then returned only to bring with her death and misery. How was this fair?

"I-I…" Hermione mumbled, her thoughts clouded by doubt and confusion. "I still don't understand."

"Understand what, love?"

"How I became a Succubus. You spoke of a ritual but I don't remember you saying any incantation."

"That's because this ritual has no words. Do you really want to know? It is not overly important considering the situation."

"No… I-I want to know."

"Fine then, sweetie, I'll tell you," The Succubus replied, ending her tirade of kisses on top of Hermione's head. "A half-blooded Succubus can only be awakened by their mother. We are a female only race but for some reason we cannot mate with males from other species. We can only mate with women, are only attracted to women."

"Stop going off topic! Just answer my question."

"I'm giving you some background, love. It never hurts to have a better understanding of our kind," The Succubus laughed, amused that her daughter was still so lively despite the overwhelming situation. "Simply put a mother must infect their daughter's human tissue with both blood and saliva. The safest way to do this is by kissing but the process takes a lot longer this way. You might not have noticed but while we were kissing before I bit into you lip but only after I had bitten into mine. My blood seeped into your open wound and after that point the ritual was complete."

"So, that's why you kissed me. That was my first kiss, you know! Why would you do that!?"

"I kissed you for many reason. One was for the purposes of the ritual, another was because of how closely you resembled Ellen and… well, you looked too delicious to pass up. Your taste is intoxicating; I have to fight my desire to kiss you even now."

"B-But you said I was your daughter!? That's sick! Why would you want to kiss your own daughter!?"

Laughing, The Succubus continued. "Because, unlike you humans, incest is not frowned upon by our kind. I wouldn't say we welcome it, as there are few benefits to mating within others our own kind but it is not out of the question. I have known of many families who breed from within but you do not have to worry. That will not happen with us. I have no wish to control you. I want you to be free to live your life."

"How can I be free to live my life when you infected me with this… affliction!?"

"Becoming a Succubus is not an affliction, sweetie .In fact, for most half-bloods, it is seen as completion. You cannot even fathom the wonders our kind possess. And you will come to know of them too, in time. If you survive the change and don't succumb to the Succubus's wants, of course."

"What do you mean by the Succubus's wants? I thought I was already a Succubus?"

"It's hard to explain, honey. You are right but you are also wrong. I think it would be better to say that the Succubus is an entity all of its own."

"What do you mean?"

Sighing, uneasy with this line of questioning, the Succubus elaborated. "The ritual that we performed has awakened the Succubus within you. You see, this entity has always been a part of you but has lied dormant, conscious but unable to influence your thoughts or feelings. It can now! The Succubus will now co-exist alongside your human soul and seek to crush what little restraint you have left."

"How will it be able to do this?" Hermione asked, confusion still etched across her face despite the woman's explanation.

"Simple. You will hear two distinct voices, once the Succubus has achieved full consciousness; one your own and the other taking the form of many. You will have to distinguish between which one to listen to because they will all sound alike but some might have ulterior motives all of their own," Laughing, the Succubus continued. "We Succubi are complex creatures but in time I'm sure you will come to understand us."

"How can I not know my own thoughts? This is ridiculous! You are trying to scare me with little to back it up!"

"Oh, no," The Succubus muttered, suddenly sounding very serious and very worried. "Oh, no, no, no, no! Do not act like this! You have no idea what you are up against! This Succubus will seek to control you; you would be its play thing, seeking every sexual encounter for the hope of getting a high. You would become a junky, plain and simple. Do not underestimate this threat! I'm being fucking serious!"

"…"

Shocked, Hermione could say nothing. The older woman looked desperate, her hands clawing at her own. She was scared? Why would she be scared when her own welfare that was not in danger?

"Listen… Hermione," The Succubus said, using her name for the first time. "I know you doubt me but please! Whatever you do, do not underestimate the danger you are in."

"What danger? How can a voice possibly place me in danger?"

"Hermione… listen to me. Please listen because I don't have a lot of time left!" The Succubus said, hand gripping her forearm. "In two weeks your life will be over and your struggle shall begin. The previous life you led will be nothing more than a forgotten memory."

"The Succubus will be subtle at first, you might not even realise it is there. But it is! The creature is clever and will want to get an idea of how you operate."

"What do you mean?"

"The Succubus will not be able to sink into your memories. It will see through your eyes and feel your thoughts but it will not remember what happened when you slumbered. It has no idea who you are and will patiently watch to find you weak points. Only then will it test your boundaries and see how susceptible you are to every other woman you meet."

"Does it have to be women?"

"Yes, the Succubus will only be interested in women, as will you," The Succubus answered, a little annoyed at being interrupted. "Like I was saying. The women around you will feel the Succubus's thrall and only the ones who are attracted to you will be drawn in by it. The Succubus is looking for an appropriate mate and until it finds what it is looking for… it will drive the other women insane. They will hunger for you, desire you but the process will be gradual. You must protect everything you hold dear, Hermione; your life, your thoughts and even your virtue."

"Wait? The Succubus is looking for a mate!"

"Yes and an appropriate one at that. Once it has found a mate, someone the Succubus would consider its sole mate; the creature will direct all its attention on her. This is the difficult part, however. The mate, that the Succubus has chosen, will be unaffected by its thrall. It would be up to you to capture her and make her fall in love with you. But remember! You have a say in things, if you do not feel the same way as the Succubus then you can fight it."

"B-But… What if I can't?"

"You can! Remember, unless you succumb to its wishes, the Succubus will have no power over you. It cannot control your body without your permission. It can only make suggestions, plant information which you will stumble upon and consider your own."

"So I can win!"

"Yes but it will not be easy. The Succubus will stop at nothing to acquire its sole mate. It will focus all its attention on her, for the rest of your life. Unless… you defeat it!" Hermione eyebrow arched at this, how could she defeat something that would persist for years to come? It was impossible. The thought of battling against a threat for years upon years felt exhausting. And it hadn't even started yet.

"Hermione! You can tame the Succubus and make it conform to your way of thinking. It will take time but this process will happen naturally on its own. If you can battle your desires for a year then you will have won."

"How can I assure victory?"

"You must protect your virginity and that of the other girls you face for at least a year. You will not be able to avoid sexual encounters as they will happen, I assure you. But do not allow them to penetrate you. If they succeed in this then you have lost. And whatever you do, do not penetrate them. If you deflower someone then you would have lost also. After that point you will crave sex so whatever you do… fight your impulses!"

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Noticing the blood that stained Hermione's lip, the Succubus leaned down to clean it with her thumb but stopped upon noticing something on her hand. Eyes widening, the Succubus retreated from Hermione and her fingers jerked unnaturally. It was almost as if… the Succubus was in pain.

"I have to go!" She suddenly shouted, covering her hand as she backed away from her daughter.

"Wh-What? Why!?" Hermione asked, startled.

"This is something I will explain in time but I really have to go. Goodbye, my baby!"

To Hermione's surprise, her body moved to follow and she caught the woman before she could leap out of the bedroom window. A hand tugging on the older woman's sleeve, the Succubus turned around and looked back at Hermione. This was her last chance! Hermione had to know, this woman was apparently significant in her life. So, how could she not know…?

…

"Wait! W-What's your name!?"

Smiling the woman turned to face her. "Rose. My name is Rose. I will see you again, Hermione. Stay safe and remember if you ever have need of me… just call for me."

And with that… she was gone.

The mother Hermione had never known was lost in the darkness once more.

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Author's Note: Apologies for the last bit being rushed but it looks like my writing duties will be put on hold for a week or two. I wanted to get something updated because of your wonderful support so I wrote this in a day. I hope it's good because I haven't the time to proof read, I'll be looking after a very heavily pregnant woman for the next few months so I have will have to juggle a lot of commitments. Before you get any ideas no, the baby is not mine. The pregnant woman is a childhood friend and I have offered to help her out because I live so close.

Well, anyway I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I would love to hear your thoughts as always. It is, of course, not compulsory, so don't feel like you absolutely have to :D

All the best to you all and stay safe.

(P.S. If there is anyone out there who would like to beta read this story then I would gladly welcome your assistance. I have some areas that I need to improve in and often find a second set of eyes can offer me that improvement that I so desperately need.)


	5. Chapter 5: Consciousness

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 5: Consciousness

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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**Authors Note: Please read the final authors note after this chapter as it has some important information concerning the future of this story etc. Make sure to read it afterwards though because there is a spoiler directly above it.**

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"Oh! My! God!" A second year Ravenclaw girl whispered, her friends giggling in excitement.

"You got Chloe Roberts! No fair! She's a rare card too…"

"I know, right!" The same girl sniggered, holding the card close to her heart and away from prying eyes.

Having seen this overly protective act, her friends immediately narrowed their eyes and looked at one another. It was almost like looking through a mirror as all the girls carried the same scowl, the same posture… and even the same emotion, jealousy. They were all jealous of their friend because, against all the odds, she had managed to obtain one of the rarest Chocolate frog cards in existence. Luck didn't even cover it, especially when it concerned the renowned Chloe Roberts, one of the greatest witches of her generation.

"You're so lucky!"

"I know, right. I can't believe my luck. She's my fuc… I mean, she's my hero. My freaking role model!"

"How is this fair?"

"Who knows?" the girl replied, glancing down at the card and at the gentle and utterly female features which stared back at her. "But I'm not complaining. She's amazing, so, annoyingly beautiful that it is not even fair! The total package!"

Scowling, one of the girls crossed her arms in response. "Alright we get it, already. No need to rub it in. She's our role model too, you know."

"Sorry," the girl said, suddenly doubling back on her previous ecstasy. "It's just… I can't even begin to explain it. She's considered one of the five greatest witches and wizards of our age, and of any age really. And to think… I got her card. I got one of the famous five."

Scratching the back of her neck, the jealous friend from before suddenly shifted nervously. "I know this might be a long shot, but would you consider parting with Chloe Roberts in exchange for Albus Dumbledore, Salazar Slytherin and… Harry Potter?"

Laughing, the young Ravenclaw tutted rhythmically, wagging her finger in the face of her closest friend. "Na ah! I know Albus Dumbledore is one of the five but you can get his card without even trying, I mean I picked one up off the floor a couple of weeks ago. And, as for Harry Potter; why would I want his card when I can see the real thing? He's much more flattering in person."

"Ha, like you'd know," another friend piped in, reddening at the mention of the boy who lived. "You can't even string two words together when he's around."

"Can too!"

"Guys," the jealous Ravenclaw friend moaned. "I don't care about Harry Potter at the moment. I've been collecting these cards for the last year, hoping to get Chloe Roberts and that is no longer possible. Will you not agree to anything?"

…

In the dim of students - segregated into the all too familiar sea of; reds, greens, yellows and blues - Hermione glanced at this small group in pause. She had already grown used to the giggling, the never ending gossip which seemed to emanate from the younger students of her school, but this time she took notice. Her back iron rode straight, her eyes flicking from one girl to the next.

The reason why Hermione was so attentive had nothing to do with the subject of their conversation, or even the nature of it. Instead it was far more peculiar than that, and in Hermione's mind, far more troubling. You see, the girls, who were now whispering quietly to one another, were on the other end of the train station. They were quite a healthy few yards away, in fact. Far from the ears of strangers and undesirables who, in the girl's minds, were quite possible lurking nearby.

How was such a feat possible…?

No mere mortal could listen in on a conversation that was taking place, literally, a mile away.

No human being could possess such a skill, regardless of whether they were born muggle or wizard.

So, then, how could Hermione hear their every word…?

How could she hear through the rasping wind which left cloaks dishevelled and hair unkempt?

How could she hear through the din of other voices, amplified yet separated to allow recognition of each individual voice?

?

The answer was simple…

… The 'awakening' had already begun to change her.

Hermione could feel it in her veins, her blood pumping at a rate of knots the likes of which she had never felt before. The feeling was incomparable. She had never felt like this, not even during her skirmishes with the Dark lord and his followers had her heart pumped so enthusiastically. Never. Nothing could have prepared her for the dizzying sensations which came with becoming a fully-fledged Succubus. Even the blood inside her veins had changed. Now, her body ached and itched as the blood became white hot underneath every surface of her skin. The scratch marks along her arms where further evidence of this.

The change had caused Hermione great discomfort initially, despite Rose's insistence that she would feel no pain for months. But thankfully, with the passage of time, the pain ebbed away to be replaced with a new level of consciousness the likes of which she had never seen, documented or otherwise.

Now, all of a sudden, Hermione's senses had heightened. Her eyes sight, for instance, had improved. She could now see with far greater clarity and comprehend information at a sub conscious level, meaning her capacity to retain knowledge had increased beyond the limits of human capabilities. Hermione's brain could now operate at far greater velocity too; decreasing reaction and response time with incredible effect.

Hermione's field of vision was magnified also, so that when her pupils dilated Hermione could identify an object from far away. It was a skill she had to master at first, as her pupils would change erratically without her approval, causing many an accident, but eventually she succeeded in this too. There were many situations such as this, where the learning curve would be too steep for Hermione to initially control. Her sense of smell being the main one she struggled with, and occasionally still struggled with.

Early on Hermione knew that this would be a problem. The morning after she had been 'awakened' by Rose, her other mother, Hermione felt sick to her stomach. A putrid smell of unknown origin appeared strong in the house. So strong that Hermione went in search of it, desperate to locate and nullify whatever was causing such a stench, but she found nothing. The smell only ceased when she closed the top window near her bedroom, which was directly above the garbage which would have to be collected tomorrow.

In time though, and with great difficulty, Hermione had started to master this sense until it was becoming far less of a problem. In fact, if Hermione discerned correctly, her sense of smell had returned to the level normally preserved for humans. The stench that wafted from the garbage was negligible at best, and the smell of her mother's cooking still remained as welcoming as before. There were still occasions when her sense of smell heightened, for what reasons Hermione was not sure, but they were becoming few and far between.

As evidenced in the Hogwarts train station, platform 9 ¾, Hermione's auditory field had also increased far beyond normal. She could still hear conversations taking place behind the barrier she had entered from King Cross station, as insane as that might sound. And, while this would have driven anyone to the point of madness, Hermione could easily sort through it all.

How was this possible…?

Well, it was an involuntary act on her part, she did not close her eyes and wade through the noises herself, something was deciphering all of it for her. There were hundreds of speech patterns and conversations taking place, which needed to be processed, and yet it was all done so easily. She could listen to ten, twenty… a hundred conversations at once and not suffer a nose bleed. She could have recited every word they uttered and only get a handful of conversations wrong.

Impossible, you might say.

… Unrealistic. A Childish fancy.

… Well, not on this occasion.

…

On this occasion it was all very real and, in some cases, very, very scary.

…

Hermione had changed, far beyond the expectations of her (human) family, her friends and even the teachers that waited at Hogwarts castle. No one had expected this, not even the great Albus Dumbledore. There was no plan and no contingency in the event of the first plan failing. Hermione was supposed to be the kind, loving bookworm and now she had changed.

And, this begged the question…

Who was Hermione Granger?

…

In all senses of the word, Hermione was… more than that of a human being, and yet more than that of a Succubus.

… She was unique.

… Special.

… The last hope for a species whose kind were dying out.

…

She was all of these things…

But most importantly of all… She was still Hermione Granger.

The book loving, gentle and caring… Hermione Granger.

That was the one thing that did not change, that would never change. Not if she had anything to say about it!

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Allowing her mind to wander - the flock of students carefully avoiding the valued member of the 'Golden Trio' – Hermione looked back at the group of girls. They were all relatively young, around the ages of twelve and thirteen, and yet there were clear signs of exhaustion. It was something Hermione would not have noticed before, having been more familiar with books then other people. But ever since the 'awakening' Hermione had grown more intuitive, especially when it concerned the behaviour of the people around her. This was something that used to come as a hindrance to her but now, without even trying, Hermione could pick up on even the smallest of visual cues.

It was not something she looked out for; she just… noticed these things. These signs could be obvious or subtle but Hermione's eye caught every last one. She could catch the smallest of quakes in a girl's voice, and even the smallest of movements; a protective hand held against an elbow, a scraping of teeth across a sore lip, the nervous shifting of eyes. Nothing escaped Hermione's notice, even the things she rather wished she hadn't seen.

In a matter of days Hermione had acquired knowledge which would have taken the best part of one's childhood to attain, and for once… she hadn't earned it. It was a strange feeling for Hermione, to have acquired something incredible without putting in the hard work. She didn't like it but she could not avoid it. It was an innate trait among the Succubi, having the ability to read body language – as well as physiological changes in the body – and it had proven most useful for creatures of a seductive nature.

However, there was one really telling problem that had been worrying Hermione for a number of weeks and it was beginning to rear its ugly head yet again. All of these… talents of hers seemed to be directed towards one gender, and one gender only; women. Hermione's skill had no effect on men, in fact, as she looked at a gaggle of them talking nearby, she felt rather disgusted. It was not their fault, as they had done nothing wrong, but men just didn't seem to measure up anymore. Suddenly, and without any prior warning, Hermione had started to view women in an affectionate and romantic light.

Her previous and fleeting crush on Ron – if you could even call it that - was nothing compared to the comfort she felt when surrounded by women. It was insane! This sudden revelation had turned her world upside down, and certain urges she had never felt were now becoming more exceedingly apparent. Women were just… it. There were no alternatives anymore. It had to be a woman, although which woman Hermione could not say.

Turning to gaze at the young Ravenclaw's again, her face tinted red and heat pulsating through her body, Hermione felt the stares press on her again. It wasn't unusual to be stared at so intently, she was a member of the famous 'Golden Trio' after all, but it was the nature of the stares that made her feel so uncomfortable. Eyes seemed to gravitate towards her, hungry eyes which only ever ended when Hermione caught wind of them. Students of her year, both young and old, couldn't keep their eyes off her.

To all the members of the female population; Hermione Granger was suddenly… desirable.

That was it! All of the eyes which preyed on her were coming from women, not a single male eye turned to look her way. It was almost like Hermione was sending off strange lesbian pheromones which had the power to entice women and, as a by-product, ward off men. Perhaps that was it. Rose, as she now called her Succubus mother, had talked about changes but had never gone into detail. Could this be one of the benefits of having Succubus blood?

Wait? Could this even be considered a benefit…?

…

As if infatuated by the sight of the Ravenclaw girls Hermione turned to face them yet again, a smile gracing her lips when she saw the happiness on the cutest ones face. They were so adorable and for once there was no feeling of attraction, it was as if the human part of her brain had fought against the Succubus. She had no interest in girls of the younger variety; they had to be close to her age by a year or two, otherwise there was just no interest. Hermione was thankful of that because it was proof that the human side of her was still very much alive, and that there was more to her then the Succubus blood that flowed through her veins.

'_They all look so happy,'_Hermione thought, crossing her arms and watching the group. _'I wonder how long that will last. When the war comes, when Lord Voldemort reappears, will they look so… _**Delicious!**'

Startled, Hermione gasped aloud, a hand flying to her mouth as a stray and intrusive thought pierced through her conscience. What the hell was that! That was not what she had been thinking of, where the hell did that come from? Turning to look around her, Hermione sought after the voice, refusing to believe the voice had come from her own thoughts.

'_I didn't mean that… I meant happy, happy! Why the hell would I say that!? I would never say that! They're too young and it is just plain __**HOT…**__No it's wrong, it's plain fucking wrong!'_

Blinking, horrified by these repulsive thoughts Hermione tried to silence this stray yet weak voice. It was a strange voice, one which closely mirrored her own and yet felt utterly foreign. She felt sick; the voice in her head was implying things which went against everything she stood for. To touch a child, whether in a position of authority or not, was wrong, just plain sick and wrong. Those were the kinds of people who should burn in hell, and she was most certainly not one of them. Hermione was the most loving and caring person you could ever hope to know, not a dislikeable bone to be found. So, you could, perhaps, understand why this suggestion was causing her something akin to mental anguish.

…

Returning to her thoughts, in attempts to alleviate her moral conscience, Hermione battled against the intrusive voice.

'_They are not delicious or hot. They are children! Young, impressionable children! You're supposed to look after them, support them but never take advantage of them. To do otherwise is…'_

'_**Haha… young… hungry… why?...here?'**_

'_W-What?'_

'_**Feed… tired…No…Here?'**_

Puzzled, Hermione stayed quiet listening to the voice which sounded oddly strained. It was as if the voice had just woken up, barely conscience. Murmuring the word under her breath, Hermione was unprepared when her eyes began to dilate and a white heat spread down her throat. Something was wrong, the control she had once had over her powers was suddenly waning. Without even intending to, Hermione's eyes gravitated towards the female students that surrounded her, her gaze locking onto skirts, breasts and lips without her approval.

"S-Stop it!" Hermione whispered, attempting to close her eyes but bristling when the attempt caused her eye lids to burn.

'_**Why?... You?… Are… Taste…'**_

'_What's happening? What the hell is going on?'_

It was at this moment when mocha brown eyes turned golden, lips which were previously chaffed became suddenly plump and inviting and a figure which was slight and dainty became wonderfully mature. And this all happened in the span of thirty seconds, right under the noses of the students that chatted amongst themselves. No one seemed to realise what was happening, despite Hermione's staggering and cursing. It was almost like a veil of invisibility had been dropped around her because no eyes watched her, nobody seemed even remotely aware of her presence.

Coughing and spluttering, a hand gripping her throat, Hermione grimaced as saliva began to drip to the floor. The sensation that coursed through her body was unbelievable. Heat, which seemed to be generated from her very being, had begun to spread to all corners of her body, a body that she was not familiar with. The changes were subtle and would not be enough to draw attention, due to the baggy nature of the school clothes, but Hermione definitely felt it, and it was an unwelcome change.

'_W-what is this!? Is this the Succubus? Has it woken up!?'_

'_**Tired…Need?... No… Desire…Time…'**_

'_Shut up!' _Hermione moaned, eyes shifting from mocha to golden behind her closed lids.

Suddenly the veil seemed to break of its own accord, eyes suddenly turning to watch her, concern and worry evident on their features. Realising this Hermione quickly regained her posture, a small grimace evident on the corner of her lip which went unnoticed by the student body. Despite this Hermione was kind enough to offer them a smile followed by a fake cough to further ward of this new found attention.

"Sorry, I have a cold. Don't mind me." Hermione smiled, waving away the concern from a cute Gryffindor third year who she had helped with school work and the like.

…

Meanwhile however, within the loud and bustling train station, Hermione attempted to appear composed and undaunted to her troubles while the transformation began to slowly ravage her body. Everyone seemed to buy it, and none battered an eye lid when she started to cough relentlessly, but inside everything had turned to chaos. And yet, mercilessly, the attention she had been receiving from the woman in the station only happened to increase as more came through the barrier from King Cross station. Students, parents and others of the female variety were becoming enamoured by the mere sight of her, men uninterested and unaware of the tension in the station.

'_Go away!'_ Hermione screamed internally, rolling her head a little and still attempting to keep her eyes closed and her face passive. _'Why won't you go away!? It is too soon! You weren't supposed to wake for two weeks!'_

'_**Tired…Sleep… Not… Time...'**_

'_Then go to __**Sleep…**__And leave me alone! __**Hunger…**__Stop it! Why won't you… __**Sleep…'**_

Then, as suddenly as the voice appeared it then suddenly ebbed away, returning to Hermione's sub-conscience to awaken at the appropriate time. But the voice didn't leave without making its mark on Hermione, both in the physical sense and the psychological one.

It was unavoidable now, Hermione's body had changed; it was now thicker and yet still retained the curvaceous edges which the brunette knew so well. Her stomach was taut and slim, proportioned perfectly to accommodate a modest pair of breasts. The breasts were not too large and not too smaller either, they were… for lack of a better word… perfect.

This was a look that models could only dream of having, where the only option to acquire such a thing was through expensive surgery's aimed at the rich and superficial. And yet Hermione had the real thing; this was what Hermione's body would have looked like in four years if she kept to her eating habits and took care of her body like she always did. All the Succubus had done was speed the process along; Hermione was young, intelligent and now outrageously beautiful to any woman that might come across her.

… And all the girls had seen her…

… And as a result, they now wanted her…

…

This was not where the changes ended, however. The Succubus had not been so kind as to leave the changes at her body, no the creature had trespassed even further. Now, Hermione's lips felt soft and almost pliable to the touch. But more astonishingly; when Hermione wet her lips with the tip of her tongue an overwhelming, intoxicating taste issued forth, causing her breath to shudder. The taste was unique, sweet and oh so delicious.

'_Okay! Okay, now, breathe,'_ Hermione repeated, taking deep breaths as she wrapped her arms around a taut stomach. _'This will all go away, now. People will stop staring at me as if they want to eat me and I'll return to the scrawny little know-it-all everyone is used to! Any moment now!'_

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_._

_._

"Mione!" A loud voice boomed out of nowhere, the occupant of the voice drawing steadily closer.

"W-Wha?"

Then suddenly, before Hermione could even finish her sentence, a young and shapely body crashed into her. Startled, Hermione stumbled backwards and, acting on instinct, held the figure to keep her upright. When she stopped her paces, Hermione attempted to turn her head to look at the girl, ready to give the unfortunate girl a piece of her mind for such inappropriate behaviour. But this movement was halted when she felt the girls head nestle into the crook of her neck, followed by a sound passing the figures lips. To Hermione's surprise, an unexpected giggle left the girl who proceeded to tighten her hold around Hermione's defined frame. While soft, dainty arms quickly wrapped their way around her neck as the brunette was pulled into a hug.

"Um," Hermione murmured, not used to this sort of contact, even from friends like Ron or Harry.

"Hehe,"

Cocking her head to the side, while the familiar voice worked its magic, Hermione's eyes widened and her arms quickly followed to complete the hug. Who else had the cheek to hug her without warning? Who else would have taken the risk when everyone knew Hermione's dislike of physical contact?

The answer was easy…

And, when a lock of red hair brushed against her cheek, that familiar scent calming her franticly beating heart, Hermione instantly knew who it was.

"Ginny!" Hermione cheered, retracting her head to see the youngest member of the Weasley family.

…

However, just as suddenly as Hermione had uttered her best friend's name, a sudden rush of euphoria pulsed through her body. The feeling was immense. So immense in fact that the young brunette was left with no other choice but to bite down hard on her bottom lip, attempting to quell the moan which begged to be let out. Her hands, which pressed against the small of her back, suddenly gripped the loose clothing of Ginny's sweater. While Hermione's arms jolted into place before tightening all of their own accord, pressing both of their bodies firmly against each other.

The stimulation did not stop there, however, because in mere seconds the rush of blood surged towards her pelvic region, Hermione's eyes widening at the sensation it caused. She did not know what to do, how to react, or even how to process such an incredible feeling. This was all so strange to Hermione, the diligent bookworm was finally learning of something which could not be aptly described in a book.

What was this..?

Hermione had never known pleasure like this…

She was not the adventurous type and had not even reached the stage of self-titillation…

This was all knew to her. She had never felt arousal such as this. The pleasurable feeling which gripped her body was relentless; it never allowed her a moment of respite. When she thought the sensation would end, when her state of arousal would diminish, it would quickly rise up again, pulsating within her very core.

Why was this happening to her…?

And why did it feel so good damn good…?

As if sensing the brunette's euphoric contemplation, and moment of weakness, Hermione's knees suddenly buckled from under her. This clearly surprised the youngest Weasley who managed to quickly readjust their positions mid-fall, a gasp leaving her lips as she knelt over her senior. In fact, had it not been for Ginny's reaction the reputable brunette might have ended up slumped on the floor, quite possibly joined by the fiery redhead.

"W-Woah! Careful!" Ginny yelped, lifting Hermione onto her feet until they were facing one another. Noticing Hermione's beautiful features, Ginny immediately smiled serenely and that smile only grew wider as she took in the brunette's own smile. Realising she was staring Ginny quickly looked away, coughing nervously as she felt the proximity between them.

"You alright?"

Surprised, Hermione's eyes darted back to Ginny's, leaving the place she had been staring at for quite a while. It couldn't be helped though; Hermione was utterly transfixed by the sight, the sight of Ginny's supple lip being scraped by a set of pearly white teeth. Now that image would stay fresh in her mind for weeks to come.

When had Ginny suddenly become so… no, gorgeous wasn't even the right word… smoking hot would have better fit Ginny's character.

The comparison was sound. Ginny was not only hot, and the desire of almost every man in the school, but she was also feisty. A dangerous and yet compelling combination. And boy was Hermione compelled by the thought of Ginny's lips pressing against her own. The filter in the brunette's mind was now gone, all thoughts which would normally be removed were now flowing freely. The sight of Ginny's vibrant hair was also had to avoid, it was a beautiful shade of red and only added to her best friends allure. She was smoking hot and the hair more than proved.

"Hello?" Ginny laughed, waving her hand in front of Hermione's face and frowning when she got no response. "Is anyone in there?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, so you are in there after all," Ginny prompted, flicking her best friends head and smiling when she scowled in response. "You had me worried there for a moment."

"Why would you be worried, Gin?"

Eyebrows rising, Ginny smirked. _'My god that is sexy,' _Hermione thought, ignoring the pulsing which was continuing in her pelvic region. _'Smiles like that should be made illegal.'_

"Well, for one; you practically collapsed in my arms. I mean, what was up with that?"

Flushing crimson, Hermione tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and turned to look at the attractive red head. "Sorry, I just didn't expect you to jump me out of nowhere. You took me by surprise."

"Hardly! And even if I did surprise you, that still doesn't explain you falling into my arms. You're not the kind to crumble under duress."

"Well, apparently I do." Hermione retorted, her teeth clenched as she fought against the urge to pull Ginny into another intimate hug.

"Oh, I see." Ginny remarked, leaning closer. "Do I make you weak at the knees Miss Granger?"

Shocked, Hermione's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, no sound issuing forth despite the amount of times she tried to. Upon seeing this Ginny could only laugh, pulling Hermione into another hug which Hermione completed without thinking. The feel of Ginny's body was so good, she felt young and frail in her arms. The need to protect, nurture and love the youngest Weasley quickly swept over her and she sighed contentedly as Ginny nestled further into her neck.

"You are so cute, do you know that?"

"H-Hardly." Hermione replied, afraid to elaborate on what she really wanted to say to Ginny.

As the pair separated, Hermione's hands lingering a second longer than Ginny's, the brunette looked at her best friend once again. She had known Ginny for three years now, having grown close during their times at the Burrow and the Quidditch World Cup, but suddenly Hermione was seeing Ginny in a new light.

Out of nowhere Ginny had suddenly become so much brighter, the mere sight of the redhead causing Hermione's heart to beat that little bit faster.

The jokes Ginny had made were suddenly akin to professional comedians, or at least Hermione's laughter would have made it seem so. She had not made a joke but Hermione could just tell… it was an inkling and when was the last time the brunette was proved wrong. The teasing she had been forced to suffer was unbearable, at least while in Ginny's presence, but she knew the moment the redhead left Hermione would be smiling uncontrollably.

…

And then there was her appearance, her posture and her cheek. To put it simply Hermione found Ginny… utterly desirable.

…

It was ridiculous, Ginny was supposed to be her best friend and nothing more. But these thoughts continued to persist, intruding upon her mind and causing a fair share of heart ache. Hermione did her best to shake away these terrifying thoughts, attempting to convince herself that they were just the product of her overactive brain playing tricks on her. This had to be the case… She couldn't actually like Ginny in that way, could she?

No, of course not, the idea was absurd. Not only was Ginny straight, having proved it by having her fair share of boyfriends, but she was also unattainable to all but one. And that one person, also, happened to be her best friend, Harry Potter. The destined duo, as some had called them. They would almost certainly end up together, Hermione had also been hoping for it. But now, if she was being completely honest… she wasn't so sure.

"Hermione?" Ginny repeated, her features turning concerned as her best friend's face soured noticeably. "Is everything alright?"

"What? Oh, y-yes, everything is alright."

"It doesn't look like it to me," Ginny pondered, her hands tightening around Hermione's without her knowledge. In fact when had they been holding hands? Neither knew but those who watched, and there were a few, would have seen Ginny's tentative fingers wrap around Hermione's. It seemed Ginny was just as nervous as Hermione due to her best friends obvious discomfort, and just as eager to regain physical contact.

"G-Ginny?" Hermione asked, looking down at Ginny's thumb which rubbed against the upside of her palm.

Startled, Ginny fingers quickly retreated from Hermione's side before being nervously crammed back inside the pockets of her winter sweater. Both missed the contact almost immediately but neither voiced their displeasure, it was too open… too honest. Rejection was not something they wanted to receive from their significant other, why ruin something when what you hoped for was impossible?

"Ah, sorry, Mione," Ginny mumbled, her face flushing to an extent which made her lips that much more inviting to the older girl. "I didn't mean to cling to you. I know how you feel about… well, you know…"

"I-It's alright. No harm, no foul… like I always say."

Laughing despite herself, Ginny turned to look at Hermione. "When have you ever said that?"

"Just now, if you must know," Turning towards the sounds of the Hogwarts Express far off in the distance, Hermione wordlessly sought out Ginny's hand and squeezed reassuringly. "Come on, let's go. I want to get a good seat on the train, away from everyone else."

"Why so eager?" Ginny teased, her hand clutching Hermione's like a lifeline as she was directed towards the edge of the platform.

"Why do you think? I want to hear about your holiday, silly. I want to know what you were up to!" Hermione smiled, causing Ginny's face to flush even further. "So we better find a good spot because otherwise, we'll be stuck with a bunch of nosy people who will want to spread everything we say."

"Good point! Stand back Hermione," Ginny said, nudging Hermione further away from her and readying herself. "I'll get us a compartment or die trying!"

"What do you mean? What are you planning?"

Hermione's momentary confusion was alleviated the moment she watched the train pull into the station; she could see Ginny's game plan coming a mile away. Which was why she was unsurprised when Ginny barged past the hurried crowd and leapt onto the train first, timing it perfectly so the doors of the station opened the moment she left the ground.

And as she watched Ginny sprint along the small hallway, through the windows of the train itself, Hermione could only smile in acknowledgement. Her smile widening that much more when the redhead spared the time to look in her direction - time slowing for both of them – and offer Hermione a wave and a cheeky smile. She was enamoured from that moment on.

And then suddenly, without her permission, another stray thought intruded upon her conscience. Although whether this voice was her own or the Succubus, Hermione did not know.

The words she whispered surprised even herself, and she stood stock still in the bustle of students that looked to cram themselves into the Hogwarts Express. Her eyes wide and the silence reigning down upon her, and in this silence Hermione's words echoed all around her.

…

Because they were true after all…

...

"I want Ginny!"

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Authors Note: Wowza! You guys simply rock! Thank you so much for your support, to have received 200 followers in 4 chapters is just… wow! I cannot thank you enough. And to all 61 of you who reviewed this story, I will be replying to your reviews on Sunday, mark my words. The support you have shown me has been amazing and has actually speeded up productivity of this story. In truth, The Succubus should have reached the second chapter by now but your support forced me to write more… thank you guys so much!

I also have some information I need to relay to you and it concerns something that happened in the previous chapter. Simply put, I had a change of heart concerning one of the rules to the changing and as a result I will be going back to correct it. The update should happen either on Saturday or Sunday but I wouldn't definitely advise you to check it out. The change will give me a lot more freedom with the mature rating of this story, i.e. more options for Hermione involving intimate and sexual situations. I hope you will like it, and I will also spend some time making the writing better… I know there are problems here and there; hopefully they will be dealt with.

Last but not least, as many of you are aware several characters have been suggested for inclusion into this story. Most of the characters are already included as a member of the eight girls but others are not, I will not spoil who because it would make the reveal less exciting. If you want a particular character to be involved in this story then please leave their name. I will add up all the votes cast and announce my decision during the tenth chapter of this story, so there isn't long left. I want my readers to have a say in this story and I feel this would be a great way of doing so without impacting the story. I can easily accommodate another character; the only question is… who will it be?

You decide…

Selection so far: Hermione x Ginny x ? x ? x? x? x? x? x ?


	6. Chapter 6: Two sided coin

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 6: Two sided coin!

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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Sitting silently - her eyes taking in the countryside which flew past her window - Hermione tried to ignore the increased bickering within the compartment. This commotion had been going on for what felt like hours now, and it was showing no signs of abating anytime soon. Sighing at her predicament, Hermione returned her attention to the window and away from her friends, unaware that her every movement was being watched closely by someone nearby.

As she stared outside, her tongue delicately moistening her dry, chapped lips, Hermione felt a shudder from beside her. The sudden act broke Hermione from her contemplation, the skin above her jean line burning where Ginny had – inadvertently – pressed herself against it. Gulping, her cheeks reddening due to the sensation building in her midriff, Hermione turned to face her best friend. But when she looked across at her friend, Ginny appeared none the wiser –unaffected by the brief skin contact that had passed between them.

In fact, the youngest Weasley was leading this… 'debate?'… with the fierceness and intensity that she had come to expect. Ginny showed no signs of discomfort. Although, come to think of it, why would she? It was just a passing moment of contact, nothing more. That's right! There was nothing more to it, no ulterior motive of any kind. Just an innocent brushing of skin on skin.

…

So, then, why did Hermione's body tingle with a pleasant glow? Why did her hands itch with the thought of Ginny's skin so close to her fingertips?

Feeling embarrassed while her cheeks were aflame Hermione turned her attention back to the window, her breathing shallow and uneven. That image of Ginny; her serious expression, those luscious locks of ginger hair and those full, delicious lips… they were such a breath-taking combination. In fact, Hermione was so enamoured by the sight that it caused a sudden feeling of light-headedness to overcome her.

What was happening to her?

Why did her body feel so hot?

"Oh, c'mon!" Ginny said, interrupting Hermione's inner thoughts.

Blinking, Hermione's surroundings came back into view and, to her surprise, she found herself looking at Ginny again. Wait! When did that happen? Had her mind wandered again? Y-Yeah… that must have been it. She had, after all, been facing the window a few seconds ago and could not recall turning to face the red head during that time.

Still, it did feel rather unnerving, to have the gorgeous sight of Ginny thrust into her vision. It was very strange…

Was her body, perhaps, acting on instinct?

Were her intentions of watching Ginny fuelled by the need to keep the redhead safe? Or, was there another reason entirely?

"No! That's never going to happen…"

Smiling, despite herself, Hermione's gaze focused on Ginny, her features softening at the sight of her favourite redhead. She really was something special. Not only was she great company – causing many a fit of laughter from the brunette, regardless of her mood - but she was also breath-taking to look at.

Now, that's not to say Hermione judged people on appearances. No, she was simply not that kind of person. But on many occasions, even Hermione had to admit that Ginny was far more than aesthetically pleasing. In fact, if Hermione was to be considered the smartest witch of her age then, in the brunette's mind, Ginny had to be considered the best looking witch of her age. There just weren't many girls like her at Hogwarts. She was unique; her fiery red hair, her smallish figure and the perfect formation of her facial features had often been the talk amongst the boys.

But it was only now, in the company of her friends and family, that Ginny showed a truer side of her that very few got to see. A side Hermione secretly treasured despite the red head's notable lack of common courtesy and, often at times, boyish behaviour. It seemed even in a room full of boys, Ginny could make her voice heard. She did not back down from a challenge and at this time Ginny could be seen mincing words with everyone in the compartment. Why? Honestly, Hermione was not too sure because, as always, she had not been following the flow of the conversation.

But, whatever it was, Ginny was clearly passionate about it.

_If only this fighting spirit transferred over into her studies,_ Hermione thought, sighing. _I might have finally found some competition worth my time, a shame._

"How can you say that?!" Ginny screeched, a chorus of negativity following her words. "The Chudley Cannons have no chance this year!"

Finally picking up on the flow of the conversation, and the same exhausted topic they had talked about so many times, Hermione returned her attention to the window. She had heard this topic of conversation so many times. It was all they really talked about, outside of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Professor Snape's ill treatment of them. She could let her mind wander now, she wouldn't miss anything important.

"Get off it, Ron! They have NO CHANCE!"

Scoffing at his sister's rebuttal, Ron voiced his own fairly balanced opinion. "Oh, please! The Chudley Cannons have this year sown up! It's in the bag Gin. Just accept defeat like the rest of your team."

"What are you talking about?! The Holyhead Harpies aren't out of it yet… and you've still got to play Puddlemere United."

"So, what? Is that supposed to be a challenge for us?"

"Uh! Yeah! Aren't you forgetting something?"

Turning to look at Harry and Neville, Ron shook his head and motioned towards Ginny. "Do you see what I have to deal with? Sis, it's over, face it."

"No it's not! Wilda Griffiths will be back from injury to face your ugly cannons. Do you really think you stand a chance with Wilda around?"

Laughing, in such a way that even Harry – his best friend - wanted to punch him, Ron crossed his arms and faced his sister. He was always so sure of himself while in the company of his friends, this kind of attitude rarely showed itself outside of the Golden Trio. It seemed familiarity bred comfort because despite Ginny's resolute behaviour, Ron appeared unaffected. So it was no surprise when Ron - with that familiar cocky smile spreading to his lips – gave a childish, exaggerated laugh in response.

"Yeah, right! With the way Puddlemere United have been playing recently, how can we not win! Just face it, Ginny, it's over."

"Oh shut up, Ron! Stop saying its over! You're acting like a child!" Ginny complained, her eyes rising to the roof of her forehand as she slouched in her chair.

"Whatever do you mean, lil sister of mine? After all! We are the champions, my friend!"

"Ron!" Ginny warned him, her restraint loosening as she watched Ron wrap his arms around a bewildered Harry and defenceless Neville. Then, with his two captors in toe, Ron began to sway them from side to side, his voice carrying all the way to Hermione.

_What a peculiar sight!_ Hermione surmised, looking between a disgruntled Ginny and a smiling Ron.

"We are the champions, my friend! We'll keep on fighting to the end!"

"Ron, I mean it!"

"We are the champions!"

"Ro-!"

"No! We are the champions!" Ron sang. Ignoring Ginny's words, Ron closed his eyes and scrunched up his face – he was clearly putting all his heart into this humiliation.

"Ron, you are really starting to piss me off!"

Adding insult to injury, Ron pulled away from his stunned friends and leaned towards his sister, the fingers of both hands in the shape of an L. Flushing, due to equal amounts embarrassment and anger, Ginny stiffened in her seat. Ron was really starting to push her buttons. Ginny had meant what she had said earlier - brother or no brother, Ron was seconds away from meeting her patented 'bat bogey hex'.

_Just gonna have to grin and bear it!_ Ginny thought, reluctantly. _Although, maybe shutting Ron up will be worth one 'howler' from Mum, hmm? _

"No time for losers! Cause we are the champions… of the world!"

Smiling triumphantly, believing the matter was completely settled, Ron turned away from his sister. Sensing opportunity, Ginny was about to reach into her jeans pocket when she was suddenly halted by a hand against her wrist. Surprised by the contact; Ginny traced her eyes along the expanse of smooth and pale skin, all the way till she met those sparkling brown eyes. The sight, which had seemed so much more breath-taking than normal, caused her pink cheeks to darken even further.

"Ginny, don't even think about it!" Hermione warned, her hand clasping Ginny's and pulling it away from her jean pocket.

"W-What? I wasn't doing anything."

"Really…" Hermione drawled, eye brows reaching into her bushy mane of hair. "I've known you for four years. Don't think you can get one past me."

Sighing dramatically, Ginny held her unoccupied hand in the air, indicating her surrender. Hermione looked at her closely, her gaze and thoughts wandering as she held Ginny's gaze. With her hand clasped around Ginny's; Hermione found her eyes trailing along the fine line of her jaw, the soft nape of her neck, the pink tint of her cheeks.

'_S-So beautiful.'_

All of Hermione's actions from this point on were led by impulse. There was no prior thought to her actions, no motives other than protection. And yet the feel of Ginny's soft yet slight hand brought with it a new found sense of euphoria. Her eyes stilled on Ginny's finger tips, their fingers intertwined and perfectly fitted to one another. Why did this feel so nice? They had held hands before, even hugged, but this simple act, here and now, was worth more to her than anything else she had ever experienced.

The thought scared her. Her feeling for Ginny scared her. She wanted to let go, to rid herself of this discomfort and pretend it never existed. But, at the same time, a small voice spoke from the depths of her heart. She wanted this. Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of her age, wanted to keep their hands locked together, for as long as possible.

Seconds passed between them, their friends unaware and untroubled by the silence nearby. They were all continuing the previous conversation it seemed, sharing Quidditch cards and chocolate frogs by the dozen. But in the compartment, between the two only girls, something was forming. The thought crossed Hermione's mind but some part of her knew…

… it knew that that thought did not belong to her…

…

'**Girl… Young… Strong… Shapely… Possibility…? Maybe…?'**

The voice came and went instantly - like it always did - returning to the sleep it had grown so accustomed to. Hermione did not have time to consider its words, however, as Ginny's lips had moved. They did not open on words but instead a continuation of her shallow, rhythmic breathing. The sight of Ginny's slim yet glistening lips had completely stolen her attention, and despite the warning bells going off inside her head, Hermione did not look away.

'_Wow…'_

'_I never noticed before but Ginny has really beautiful lips.'_

Wait! Where the hell did that come from? This was Ginny she was talking about… Ginny! Ginny was – and would always be - her best friend. She could be nothing more than that because… because there shouldn't be more than that between them. Why risk a friendship - one she was far more dependent on than she cared to admit. Why would she risk it all for… whatever this feeling was?

This was wrong. This wasn't like her. She had never, in all her life, felt this way about Ginny. They had always been friends, nothing more and nothing less. Of course, that did not mean Hermione was blind. She had always thought that Ginny was beautiful but those words had been said in appreciation, and yet now. Now, these same words were said in… longing.

Longing…?

Was that it…?

Did she desire Ginny?

No. Ginny was… Ginny. She had known her for years and experienced moments both fun and painful. Feelings of… of love would not manifest themselves after such a long time. Would they? Surely, too much time had passed. It had taken time – around three years, in fact - but a stable and irreplaceable friendship had been established between them. Surely, surely there was no more room for things like love and affection.

"Hermione?"

Gasping, the voice cutting through her muse yet again, Hermione looked up from Ginny's lips. The sight before her left her enraptured, dull brown eyes meeting familiar cerulean orbs of light. All movement was halted, her breath slow and stilted. How could someone so beautiful appear in her life without warning? How could that same person have been a friend for years and yet no feelings of love had existed before this moment?

'**Hunger… Feed… Why…? No… Wait…? H-U-N-G-E-R…'**

"Hermione!"

Startled, Hermione shook her head and rubbed the sweat from her forehead. The act made her realise the sudden wave of exhaustion that had swept its way across her body. Her limbs felt heavy and the simple act of breathing was starting to prove difficult. Feeling her temperature, and realising it was almost scolding to the touch, Hermione leaned back before looking at Ginny.

"Uh… Y-Yes, Ginny? What is it?"

Looking concerned, her lips scraping between her teeth as she contemplated her next words, Ginny gave a reassuring squeeze of the brunette's hand. "Is everything, okay?"

"Sorry?"

"It's just… something fells, um, off about you."

"Oh. There's no need to be worried, Ginny. I'm perfectly fine. Just feeling a little under the weather, that's all." Hermione said, leaning back against the seat and closing her eyes to fight down the nausea that threatened to issue forth.

'**People…? Door…? A… Contraception…? Seat… Touch… Soft…'**

Shaking off these intrusive thoughts, her mind swirling and body heat increasing, Hermione pressed her forehead to the cold glass of the window beside her. Then suddenly, her eyes opening onto the view of the countryside, someone else took its place. A female figure, pale and willowy, reflected in the mirror.

Brown eyes, white and soft to the eye skin, full and red stained lips, brown and fuzzy hair… these were all familiar sights. But something was very much out of place. In the reflection of the window - Hermione's breath stopping at the realisation - her face was covered in blood. It was practically covering her like a second skin. Her lips, which she, at first, thought were painted in red, were in fact smeared with blood. The window then, suddenly, began to crack, the lines spreading across the glass in increasing number.

What was happening?

(Crack… Crack… Crack… CRACK!)

The moment the glass shattered –Hermione recoiling from the shards that hurtled towards her – everything became suddenly still. Opening her eyes, unaware of the cry of pain that came from Ginny, Hermione quickly recognised the sights of the countryside and the sounds of the compartment all at once.

The other Hermione had disappeared.

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"OW! Hermione! What the hell was that?" Ginny asked, carefully moving Hermione away after she had collided hard with her shoulder.

Despite being a trained Quidditch player, the unexpected collision still caused a small welt to form on her shoulder. It bloody hurt and she was not happy. But, despite every fibre of her body demanding she react angrily, Ginny drew in a few deep breaths. She did not want to shout at her best friend and there must have been some reasonable explanation as to why she had almost jumped out of her skin. Hermione was incredibly lucky because if it had been anyone else, other than brunette, she would have given them more than an earful to contend with.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Ginny ignored the hand on her shoulder, her breath hitching for reasons which were not apparent, and pressed the hand between hers. "Hermione, do not dodge the question. Why did you almost jump into my lap?"

"What?!" Hermione screeched, shocked by the unexpected accusation and the other implications to her words. "I didn't jump into your lap. What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, you did Hermione." Ron replied, concern written on his features. "You were silent for a moment and then you just… you just spased out on us."

"Nice one, Ron." Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Your tact has proven you well, once again."

"What do you mean?"

While two thirds of the Golden Trio broke into a separate conversation, Neville watching on feeling lost and confused, Hermione turned back to Ginny. She was still staring at the brunette and, if her eyes did not deceive her, Ginny appeared to shudder when her brown eyes locked on to her. Despite a moment of nervousness Ginny quickly regained control of her emotions and spoke.

"Listen, ignore those two and tell me what's wrong."

'**Name…? Can't… Remember… Is there… Need… For a… Name…?'**

Blinking, the vision of a bloodied Hermione writhing in a white room, a smile plastered across her face, momentarily threw her off. Unsurprisingly, of course, as the image came in snippets, laughter ringing inside her head as the image abruptly disappeared.

What the hell was that just now? Why had she been laughing? Why had she been smiling?

Gritting her teeth, the brunette looked at the youngest Weasley, trying to keep her mind focused on the present.

"Ginny, it's nothing. It's like I said before…"

'**HUNGRY… FUCK… OWW… Calm… Feed… HUNGRY!'**

"I'm just a little under the weather. It will pass in time, please, don't worry about me."

Having finished his conversation with Harry, and ignored his best friend's advice of thinking before he spoke, Ron felt honour bound to point something out. It had been bugging him for a while but his own curiosity had finally won out… and he had to know. Of course, the thing he wanted to point out was something Ginny, Harry and Neville had been keeping quiet about. It was an omission on their part and an unspoken agreement that they would not approach 'that' topic. Unfortunately, it seemed Ron had not gotten that memo.

"Hermione?"

Relieved to avoid Ginny's continued interrogation, Hermione smiled at Ron. "Yes, Ron. What is it?"

"Well… it's nothing but… did you know… eh, well, obviously you don't know. You don't have a mirror, after all, and…"

"Ron," Hermione said, interrupting Ron's strange mumbling. "What is it? Please speak sense."

"Well, I mean. It's not serious but…You're bright red."

Surprised by this utterance, Hermione's hands rose to her face but nothing felt out of the ordinary. What was Ron talking about? Her face couldn't have been red because the only way her face could have been red was if it had been hot. Maybe Ron was seeing things or teasing her? This assumption was tested, however, when both Harry and Ginny kicked Ron in the shins.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"For being a stupid, fucking, moron, you dense idiot." Ginny shouted.

"W-What are you talking about? I didn't do anything."

Sighing and shaking his head in his hand, Harry patted Ron on the shoulder. "This is what I was talking about. 'Think before you speak.' or otherwise things like this will happen."

Watching this interaction, Hermione forgot about Ginny relentless questions - and Ron's strange question – finding the spectacle before her quite amusing. She was not normally one to enjoy these moments, she much preferred conversations about school work and the like, but something drew her in. She smiled as she watched Ginny, her back arched as she leaned forward to whisper harsh things which no brother wanted to hear.

"Maybe if you weren't such an idiot you would understand the mood. Please, shut the hell up and let the adults deal with this!"

Surprised by Ginny's fiery outburst, Ron leaned forward until their foreheads were barely centimetres apart. "I am your older brother. Don't…"

Hermione never heard the next utterance; Ron's words were instead silenced by a sick, squelching laugh. Stiffening, Hermione looked around the compartment but could not find the voices origin. It was only when she noticed her friends, continuing their conversation uninterrupted, that Hermione realised where the voice was coming from. It was coming from inside her own head;

… the Succubus was gradually gaining consciousness.

'**HaHahAhAhHaHHaHaaHAA… Name! NAME! HaHHAaaghaHAhhaHHAHaa… Ginny!'**

'_W-What…?'_

'**GINNY! HAHaaHahHAhaaaHHAhha… Name… Desire… HUNT… Feed… FORCE…TARGET!'**

'_G-Ginny has nothing to do with this! Don't ever say her name again!'_

'**GINNY! AHHAAHhhaahHaaAhhAhaha… FIRST…Target… Succumb… DEVOUR… ENGORGE…DEFILE!'**

'_N-N-No! Get out of my head! You have no right! Ginny is off limits… as are my friends!'_

'**Time… WILL… Soon… Time… Come… Cum… HahahhahaHAHhaaHa'**

"Okay guys," Harry said, Hermione's wide eyes racing to him at the sudden interjection. "Enough's enough. We still have hours left before we get back to Hogwarts. I'd rather avoid a detention on my first day, and I know Snape will be looking for any excuse to give us all one. So, please settle this another time."

Scoffing, turning away from Ron, Ginny complied. "Fine. As long as he leaves the talking to me. Mr Eloquent can talk to Lavender Brown… it'll be like two peas in a pod."

"Oh, yeah," Ron said dangerously, his eyes hinting at something that few knew. "Just like you and a certain blonde that…"

"Ron!" Ginny shouted, launching herself out of her seat and pinning her brother against his seat, wand pressed against his neck. "If you open you big mouth again I'll fit it with worms, do you understand me!?"

Looking scared, Ron nodded frantically, his hands raised in surrender. Ron was not the only one who looked surprised, both Harry and Hermione watched the interchange with shocked looks. Or, in Hermione's case, a blood-thirsty anger… the thought of Ginny with someone else was simply unforgiveable.

Ginny belonged to her, pure and simple. No one could have Ginny except Hermione Granger. The thought, while foreign, did not raise any alarm bells in Hermione's head because she believed, explicitly, that it was her thought and not the Succubus. But alterations were occurring inside her mind and, despite being the smartest of her age, Hermione failed to recognise this.

"Okay, Okay! Sorry, I'll be quiet. Promise."

Pausing, a scowl placed across her gorgeous features, Ginny pushed Ron back against the seat and walked towards Hermione. While Hermione tried to catch Ginny's eye, almost imploringly, Ginny refused to look in her direction and continued to walk on. It was only when she seated herself; eyes looking at her knees, that Ginny whispered something to Hermione.

"Please, don't … me what…."

"Sorry?"

Sighing, her fist clenched in her lap, Ginny turned to face Hermione. "Please, don't ask me what he meant. It's not something I want to talk about. Just don't ask, please."

…

Hermione understood, of course. She wanted to know – truly and desperately wanted to know – but she would not pry into Ginny's life. Hermione would never cause harm to Ginny and at this present moment Ginny really needed her support. And that was what best friends were supposed to do, wasn't it? Support their friends through thick and thin.

Hermione could do that much, after all, Ginny had done this same thing tenfold. She would let the matter go for now, just like Ginny wanted, but she would bring it up again at a more appropriate time.

…

…

"**No…"**

Those were the words that passed through Hermione's lips.

Surprised by this, Ginny's eyes widened and the entire room turned to face Hermione in equal parts astonishment. An eerie silenced forced its way into the room, all occupants feeling tense and uneasy. It was so unexpected. Not only had Hermione refused Ginny's request – the first instance this had happened since they meet – but Hermione had spoken with such conviction and anger. It was rather startling.

"W-What?" Ginny replied, looking incredulous.

"I said… no. I want to know. Why should Ron know and not me?" Hermione replied with a stern expression, her voice eerily calm and even.

While she said this a part of Hermione was dumbstruck by the words that left her mouth. She could not believe what was happening. Why was she being so rude to Ginny? She had no reason to be this upset and yet every fibre of her being, every urge and need, was telling her to hurt Ginny. Why? Why would she do this to her closest friend?

"Hermione," Ron crocked, coughing to bring about his voice. "It's honestly nothing. You don't have to worry about…"

"I'm not worried. I'm angry, Ron. I thought I was her best friend… but I was clearly being led on," Hermione said, face still remaining impassive. "How long have you known this?"

'**LIARS… ALL OF THEM… DECIEVE… HARM… MANIPULATE… UNWORTHY!'**

Stuttering once again, Hermione's expression appearing in spurts of dark shadow and loose hair, Ron crocked out a reply. "How long? Um, I…"

To his relief, however, Ron was silenced by another voice, the voice cutting through the room with an underlying hint of anger hidden beneath the calm.

"Enough, Ron. Remember your promise; you are not to tell anyone."

Ginny had finally gotten over her moment of surprise, and now she was prepared to go toe to toe with Hermione if she persisted. But still, in the back of her mind, concern began to race. She had feared this conversation, about her and the aforementioned blond. It was always going to come up but she had never expected this reaction from Hermione. What the hell had happened to her over the holidays?

"Actually, Ron, ignore what she just said. Tell me what happened, now." Hermione interjected, her eyes never leaving Ron.

"I…"

"Do not even think about it, Ron. If you open your mouth I swear I'll close it with my fist," Ginny said. "Hermione, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Turning her head to face Ginny, a smirk placing itself at the corner of her lip, her dark complexion suddenly broke. The lights of the compartment finally came into focus, and the blinding intensity caused her to blink incessantly. What the hell had happened to her? It was like her body had been under some sort of hypnosis. Groggily, Hermione looked back towards Ginny and paled at the look of anger she was unused to seeing on her friend.

"Go on, then," Ginny said, her voice daring and begging for conflict. "Out with it. What has you so pissed?"

Startled by this new side of Ginny, Hermione steeled what little resolve she had left. "I'm sorry. I-I don't know what came over me. Why did I say that?"

Looking between Ron and Harry, equal looks of confusion and shock on their faces, Ginny leaned towards her best friend and left a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Hermione?"

"Y-Yes?"

"What's going on with you? You haven't been yourself lately."

Surprised by this, Hermione looked at both Harry and Ron who nodded their heads in affirmation, still looking slightly frightened of her. Had she behaved so differently today? Apart from that previous outburst nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. She remained silent, leaving Ginny's question in the air, unable to find an answer to this question.

"Hermione? Something's clearly not right. Let me help you."

Looking between all sets of confused faces, Hermione suddenly stood up. The act resulted in all of her friends recoiling; the action was not only unexpected but performed in the batting of an eye. How had Hermione accomplished such a feat?

"Hermione?"

"I… I," She stuttered, looking at all areas of the compartment before her eyes rested on the entrance. "I have to go."

Then, suddenly, before anyone could properly assess the situation Hermione walked towards the door and passed through it. Ginny - noticing this – staggered up and tried to grab a hold of Hermione before she left. The thought of Hermione leaving at this moment caused a strange feeling of incompleteness to flow through her, something she was far from used to. But, as she grasped at her senior's trailing shirt, all she met was air. Then, in the span of a few seconds, Hermione disappeared down the corridor.

"Wait, Hermione!" Ginny shouted, stepping outside of the compartment. "Hermione!"

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Author's Note: Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, guys and galls :D

I'm really sorry for not posting an update to this story but I've recently been looking after a friend of mine who just had a baby recently. She needed an extra hand around and, seeing as I live the closest to her, it was decided that I would help in this as well. I previously supported during the pregnancy and now, it seems, I will be helping her with the baby, at least until she can cope on her own. It shouldn't be too long though, she always gets a hang of things quickly.

Now, as for this story, I have some good news. I will be able to update this story more frequently than my other story. The reason being; this story has amassed a following which has blown my mind and as a show of thanks to all of you… I will be updating this story regularly. Now, regularly will normally be; a chapter every 2 to 3 weeks but on harder days it will be a little more. I will update each chapter's progress on my profile page, so check that out to look forward to the next chapter :D

Well, that's all I have to really say. I hope you enjoyed this story, and that you will leave an impression or comment about how you feel the story is progressing. I love reading your reviews and I will respond to them as well, I have found reviews useful in the past because it offers a new insight and outlook into my writing. If you do not have the time to write one out then no biggie, I just hope you enjoyed this chapter and will come again for the next one.

All the best! Thank you once again for reading Chapter 6 of The Succubus.


	7. Chapter 7: It runs through our veins!

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 7: It runs through our veins!

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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'_What the hell is wrong with me?__'_

"Hermione!" A voice called, the sound never registering as Hermione walked through a small cluster of third years.

Ignoring her surroundings, the brunette's breathe quickened as she walked, her footsteps hurried and her eyes wide and scared which, inevitably, drew the attention of all she passed. Many a worried glance followed her down the corridor, echoes of worded concern spoken just loud enough to hear. But Hermione took no notice of this; she was too deep in thought, so unexpectedly traumatised by her actions which could not have been her own.

I mean… how could she treat Ginny so unfavourably?

Why did she say such horrible things when every fibre of her being was screaming at her to stop?

Why had she been such a… a bitch!?

These negative, degrading thoughts invaded her mind and shut her off from the rest of the world. She was dead to the world, now. No sounds reached her, no contact could be felt and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart and a swirl of emotion rising from her chest. She felt unhealthy; close to the point of being physically sick… this was not a normal reaction to what was, admittedly, a small argument.

'**Greed… Hunger… Betrayal!'**

_(Step… Step… Step)_

Hell, this wasn't even a first for Hermione. She had had arguments with Ginny in the past and they had been far more volatile than this. They had exchanged words, cut each other deeply but by the end of the day they had always found time to apologise and ask forgiveness. So, why did this feel so different? Why were her emotions getting to her to the point where she was walking the Hogwarts Express like a traumatised ghost?

'_Why did I say those things to her?' _

'**Betrayal… Secrets… Human… nature…? HahAHaGHahEaheAAgh!'**

'_She's my best friend and I-I… I treated her like she was nothing…'_

'**Nothing… She…Ginny… Nothing!'**

While Hermione walked, her eyes downcast, the words of the Succubus streamed through her conscience, but like the sounds around her; nothing registered. She could not hear the Succubae's voice, it was speaking aloud, its voice ringing in Hermione's thoughts, but it was not for her to hear. The Succubus had now found a new degree of consciousness, no longer lucid but faintly aware of the control it could exert upon its subject. New possibility's had opened, new methods of control had been presented to the Succubus… how could it resist the chance at experimenting?

… And that was what the Succubus had done; it had tested Hermione's resistance and found it wanting.

Hermione, however, was left completely unaware of this. She was not aware that the Succubus had been the cause of her outburst. The connection between her strange reaction and the Succubae's existence should have resulted in an obvious conclusion. Yes, it would have been obvious if the Succubus had not blinded the young brunette to its involvement.

All thought that passed through Hermione's mind was being filtered by the Succubus, its invisible tendrils squashing any signs of resistance, which were plentiful. It was clear that some part of Hermione's conscience had become aware of the intrusion, and far too quickly for the Succubae's liking. It would not be long before the Succubae's control over Hermione evaporated, it was still too weak, too tired to wake.

But, until then the Succubus would continue to remove any suspicions the mud-blood would have. Any thought that could, possibly, place blame at its feet would be removed. And, any thought that played into Hermione's fears or worries would be prioritised, heightened until it was the only thought consuming the brunette's mind.

'**So… Easy…? Control… Delicious… More…? Tired…'**

It seemed Hermione really was no different than any other human being. The Succubus had simply been testing out its control and had found Hermione's resistance tame at best; it had been so easy to control such an impulsive individual. That was it, the Succubus thought; the second string of sentences forming in its depraved mind, her host was easy. Easy to control, easy to manipulate; all humans were the same.

It was at this thought, however, that any control the Succubus had over Hermione finally snapped. Feeling both tired and thoroughly exhausted the Succubus returned to its slumber, elated to know that any suspicions that could have been placed at its feet had been effectively removed. It would come again, it would be stronger and it would taste blood before the end. So many virgins to devour, so many women to be punished… it couldn't wait!

* * *

><p>.<p>

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"I swear I saw her! She was here… Chloe Roberts was on this train!"

"No! She wasn't! You're clearly off your rocker! She's in Albania you moron, it's been reported all over the Daily Prophet! Some sort of secret mission for the Ministry of Magic, if I remember correctly."

"I'm telling you, I saw her!"

Brushing passed the squabbling students – who seemed unaware of her presence – Hermione continued along the corridor. Each step brought with it an increasing feeling of disappointment, she had always detested cowardice and – by her own account – her actions had been pretty cowardly.

"_I'm not worried. I'm angry, Ron. I thought I was her best friend… but I was clearly being led on,"_

Why had she said such things? To be so incensed that someone else knew something of Ginny that she, Hermione, lashed out. Even to Hermione's mind that was ludicrous. We all have secrets and some can only be shared with family and yet, for some reason, this omission felt like a knife in her back.

Anger and sadness vied for dominance in her mind, a small group of girls retreating down the corridor upon her approach. She looked like a woman possessed; hands clenched, hair flowing around her shoulders with every stomp of her feet. This was not the Hermione they had grown used to and it was rather unsettling to say the least.

'_I'm overreacting! This is nothing! I'm behaving like one of the Patil twins!'_

'…'

If Hermione had not been so preoccupied with her behaviour towards Ginny then she might have found the situation rather laughable. For years – in fact, ever since she entered Hogwarts – Hermione had verbally criticised the Patil twins for constantly overreacting to everyday things. And now, she, Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, was acting just like the people she had once criticised. As time passed, this double standard started to grate on her. She never wanted to be considered anything like the Patil's or Lavender's of this world. She was Hermione Granger…

Avoiding a sprinting second year who had, unexpectedly, bolted out of a nearby cubicle, Hermione continued along the tight, narrow hallway. In fact, Hermione was so lost in thought that she didn't recognise the sudden change in uniform worn by the students. What had once been a crimson red tie and lining was replaced with a distinctive blue.

Blue…?

It seemed as if Hermione had - at some point - left the unspoken border between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Of course, there was no rule that said houses had to sit in segregated areas but most houses remained within their own confines, never venturing very far.

It was one aspect of School that Hermione still felt appalled by. To think that such prestigious houses, such as; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff still refused to mingle with one another. This was not the only sign of division, however. Despite years of development, there was still a troubling divide between the pure blood's and the muggle born witches and wizard. This divide had in fact been in existence for centuries, well before her arrival at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Of course, only Hermione would be aware of this having read Hogwarts; A history. Few knew this but ever since Hogwarts's inception the topic of blood superiority had been a divisive one. Many claimed that mud-bloods – as muggle-borns were more commonly referred to – would infect the magical world and cause magic to be lost forever. A moronic hypothesis to say the least, but many pure-bloods were still so far stuck in the past that they could not see the advantages of muggle-borns.

That was not to say that all pure-bloods had been unwelcoming, the Weasley's in particular had been very welcoming. But for every Weasley there would be a Malfoy waiting just around the corner to brag about their family legacy and racial (?) superiority. People like Malfoy were a common problem in wizarding society; they drowned out the more intellectual voices with obnoxious behaviour and uninformed opinions.

…

"What is she doing here?"

"Shouldn't she be with the rest of Gryffindor?"

…

Curious voices never registered as Hermione contemplated these thoughts; her mind was a maze of confusion and worry. However, before she could concentrate along her new line of thinking, a strangely pleasant voice floated up into her conscience. The blurry figures that surrounded her gradually coming back into focus. The strange mist that had engulfed her eyes dissipated, the composed and lucid Hermione Granger had finally come back to the world of the living.

"Hello, Hermione? It's a pleasure to see you again, and so soon." The figure in front of her greeted. The only discernable feature that Hermione could make out was the unmistakeable sight of bright blonde hair; the rest of her body still remained a little blurry.

Suddenly realising that the figure was standing a very short distance away, Hermione looked up into the smiling face of…

"Luna!"

Smiling in response Luna merely nodded in affirmation, the hand that had rested against Hermione's elbow, to keep her upright, retreating from sight. Hermione, meanwhile, suddenly realised a weird sensation forming on her knee. Looking down, Hermione was surprised to feel a slight twinge whenever she sifted her weight. Far more worrying though was the obvious crook in Luna's leg, as if she was trying to apply as little pressure as possible.

Suddenly connecting the two bizarre circumstances, Hermione quickly apologised to the untroubled Ravenclaw.

"Luna! I am so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going and… I didn't mean to walk into you, I promise."

Luna's smile never leaving her beautiful face, Hermione's junior nodded fervidly. "It's not a problem. No harm no foul."

Not completely taken in by this response, Hermione frowned and took another glance at Luna's leg. As if sensing the inspection, Luna lowered her foot to the ground and maintained her wide grin, genuinely pleased to find an acquaintance of hers. She could never describe Hermione as a friend – as she had very few of those – but she liked to think of Hermione as more than a stranger. If she was permitted to think this of course, if Hermione every voiced displeasure at the idea – which she wouldn't – Luna would have placed her in the stranger category.

Forgetting what she was doing, Hermione stared at Luna again, the smile slightly overwhelming to the brunette. Feeling Hermione's eyes on her, Luna gently swayed to the sounds of a humdinger singing its song, a song that only she could hear. She had nothing else to do really, and it was always a treat to hear the humdinger at its finest. Such a lovely tone and pitch, if only her acquaintances could hear it. It was such a shame that they couldn't because it was so lovely.

Meanwhile, relieved that she had not hurt Luna, Hermione smiled at Luna – feeling it rude to stare for too long – but was taken aback when Luna's smile brightened even further. She really did have such a beautiful, innocent smile… like a puppy that hadn't seen its owners in weeks. So damn cute, so effortlessly adorable…

'_Whoa! Hold on there! Where had those thoughts come from!?'_

Frowning at her own thoughts, Hermione noticed Luna's smile wither at the expression which was now etched across her face. Silently berating herself for ridding Luna of her smile, Hermione returned her attention to the ground.

She didn't know what to do, Luna had always been… difficult to converse with. A lovely young girl, without a doubt, but she would always be distracted by things that simply did not and could not exist. Being friends and recognising imaginary things was something Hermione had outgrown when she was four, and Luna still seemed to suffer from it. As much as she hated to admit it, Hermione would sometimes feel embarrassed being noticed in Luna's company. The girl would talk about humdinger this and humdinger that – how could you converse with someone who still had the mind of a child?

"L-Luna!" Hermione stuttered, suddenly realising something that she had spotted before. "Why… Why do you have one shoe?"

"I'm sorry," Luna replied, her mind far away with the fairies. No seriously, I mean real sparkly fairies. They entered the Hogwarts Express only seconds ago and flew around her head. Such troublesome minx's they were, they would always tease and embarrass her in front of people.

"I didn't quite hear you, Hermione. Could you repeat what you were saying? I'll get it this time, I'm sure of it."

Sighing as she watched Luna's eyes shifting from her own hazel eyes to something above her, Hermione reiterated. "Why do you have only one shoe on, Luna?"

"Oh, that. Someone from my year wanted to play a game. So he took one of my shoes and my school bag, he said he'd give it back before we reach Hogwarts, though. So it's nothing to worry about."

A smile still plastered on her lips, Luna looked at Hermione with a hint of confusion. Why was she staring at her, mouth open wide? Concerned by this behaviour, Luna looked around her vicinity, her eyes scanning the nearby cubicles before she turned her body fully to look down the corridor.

There was nothing there? Oh, maybe there had been something there and it had disappeared the moment she turned around. That was probably it; she had been too impulsive and had scared it away. She would do better next time, Luna was sure of it.

"Luna! What do you mean someone took your shoe and school bag?"

Surprised by this utterance, Luna turned to face Hermione. The concern she had previously felt gradually intensified as Hermione's features came into view. The brunette was clearly distressed, her eyes pierced together and her teeth gritted. What had made her acquaintance so angry? Wait, maybe the creature she had missed had been more deadly then she had initially anticipated. Phew, that had been a close one; she would have to be more careful from now on.

"It's like I said," Luna said, scratching her elbow absentmindedly. "Someone came into my cubicle and asked if they could borrow my stuff for a game they would be playing."

"And you said, YES!" Hermione screeched, her eyes almost popping out of her sockets.

"No, not at first. Initially, I refused their request because I needed my shoe and my school bag at the time. Not only that but they already had a shoe and a school bag. So, I asked them why they couldn't play with that instead."

Shuffling nervously, Hermione hastened for Luna to continue when she had abruptly stopped her explanation midway through. Recognising the signal, Luna continued.

"And, well. They said that they didn't have a shoe small enough and that the school bag had to be from a girl who believed in the Crumple-Horned Snorkcack. And, seeing as I filled those two quotas' I decided to give them what they wanted."

Amazed, Hermione blinked repeatedly, her ability to form a coherent sentence failing her for the moment. How could Luna be so… trusting? It was an incredibly stupid thing to do and, considering the results Luna had received in her school work last year, Luna was far from stupid. Why had she given those people her belongings? Who in their right mind would want to play with a shoe and a school bag?

"Luna! W-What? They weren't looking to play a game with your belongings! They were planning to hide them from you! Why did you give them your stuff?"

Confused, and slightly exasperated that she had to repeat herself, Luna replied. "Because I am the only one in the school who believes in the Crumple-Horned Snorkcack. If I hadn't given them my belongings then they wouldn't have been able to play their game. I didn't really see another option."

"Luna…" Hermione moaned, stretching the name as far as her tongue could carry it. "Do you know who took your belongings?"

"Why would you like to know?"

"Because I'm going to get them back, and teach them a lesson at the same time." Hermione seethed, as strange energy emitting from her body.

Hermione was furious. To treat one of her friends so badly, to prey upon another's weakness; now, that was something she despised above all else. Without her knowing, a power began to rise from within her being. A power that had remained dormant since her birth, it had always been a part of her, and yet, it belonged to something else entirely.

Suddenly, invisible tendrils of energy slipped through the surface of her skin and seeped along the corridors at a rate of knots. Despite her eyes concentrating on Luna, Hermione could see everywhere along the trains corridor. Wherever the tendrils went, her eyes followed. Multiple subjects identified and processed in a matter of seconds, faster than the human brain could possibly manage.

Whispered conversation almost deafening to her ears, and yet easily ingested. The intangible tendrils slipped through all manner of surfaces, whether they be; metal, wood or even human skin. Any barrier in her way could easily be passed through without anyone's notice, and she continued to do so until she finally found what she was looking for.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Luna asked, concerned when Hermione's smile twisted uncomfortably.

* * *

><p>.<p>

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"L**un**a?" Hermione said, her eyes flashing from brown to golden.

"Y-Yes?"

"W**h**a**t **c**o**lou**r** is **y**o**u**r b**a**g?"

Stunned by the sudden change in conversation, and Hermione's vocal inflexion, Luna stuttered a reply. Something felt very off about this situation, but most worryingly of all… she felt like she had seen something like this before. This all felt very familiar, this sudden transformation that had come across Hermione was identical to something she had seen before. What was it, though?

"It's black… with splashes of blue…"

"A**nd** h**a**s a p**ic**tu**r**e **o**f **th**e Qui**b**bl**er**, am **I r**igh**t**?"

"Y-Yes!"

Smiling, Hermione whispered one final word before she retreated into the power of the tendrils. The words, "**Good.**" Passing her lips before the tendrils obeyed her every command. See could see everything; the group of boys laughing with one another, throwing Luna's shoes at each other as if it were contagious. So, annoyingly childish. So, annoyingly human.

"Eww! I don't want to be infected by Luna's stupidity! Have it back!" One of them laughed, throwing the shoe back at his friend.

"Oh, but Steven, the Crumple-Horned Snorkcack made me do it," another boy chimed in, staring into space dreamily to a chorus of laughter.

Hermione's neck twitched and her mouth jerked, a crick in her neck emitting around the narrow corridor. Luna, unaware of what was going on, clasped her hand around Hermione's forearm. Looking deeply into the Golden eyes of her friend, Luna pondered on stray thoughts.

Where had she seen this before? The transformation Hermione was undergoing felt nigh on familiar to something she, herself, had seen. What's more, she felt like she had seen this same scene early on in her childhood. How did this make any sense? Why did she feel like this knowledge could be the difference between life and death? Luna was terrified, and the thought of being terrified scared Luna that much more, very few things scared her.

"Whoa, have you seen the shit she has in her bag. What the fuck is this?" Retreating from the bag Steven, wiped the remains on his friends trousers. The group of five retreated from the bag, until one finally stepped up the courage to empty it on the floor.

"We have some twigs, don't know what that is, parchment, don't know what that is, looks like a Quill and oh," the boy said, picking up a small picture. "Looks like a picture of her family."

Moving towards the boy, the group circled him as they observed the picture together, unaware that several tendrils were filling the small space, waiting to solidify at a moment's notice. The process took time unfortunately, and a lot of patience it seemed, but Hermione wasn't even straining herself, she was revelling in the intoxicating power.

"Holy shit! Is that Luna's mother!"

Interested by this development, Hermione moved one of the tendrils towards the picture in question. And, what she saw warmed her heart; she never knew that Luna had kept the past with her all this time.

"Yeah, and that must be Luna's father. This was probably taken before she died," Noticing his friends looks of confusion, the boy explained. "Didn't you know, Luna's mum died when Luna was about nine. I saw it in the Daily Prophet. She was experimenting with spells or something."

"Such a shame," Another voiced, nodding while attempting to hold back his smile. "She would defo be worth a bang!"

Finding the entire situation hilarious the boys laughed as one, practically rolling over themselves at their friends disgusting admission. "Dude, what the fuck!? You're heartless man."

"So, what?" Steven repeated, unable to contain his giggles. "She's fucking hot. I swear if Luna looks like that in the future I might have to reconsider my opinion of her."

Creases forming all over Hermione's face, her teeth gritting until a vile snarl escaped her lips, Luna retreated again. The pieces were finally coming together, but there was something she was missing. Hermione's eyes were now a bright Gold, her face dark and creased in unadulterated anger… the sight scarier than any dementor's kiss.

"Are you serious? Luna – fucking – Lovegood. I mean, she's alright to look at but she has nothing upstairs."

"What do you mean," Another rather chubby friend supplied, knocking one of his friends out of the circle, accidently. "Brains or rack?"

"Both, you moron. She's as flat as a board and has the mind of a moron. Who the fuck would want to screw someone like that?"

"Well," Steven suggested, the tendrils slipping around each group members ankles. "I could always put a bag over her head, and fuck her from behind. I could say I'm looking for the Blibbering Humdinger; she'd probably be desperate for me to find it."

Hearing the laughter once more, Hermione's patience had finally snapped. With a sick and twisted smile, Hermione felt the tendrils slowly begin to form in the room, solidifying while remaining invisible to the naked eye. She would make them suffer and what's more, she would make Steven suffer the most. Oh, she had a great idea on how to… please him.

'**HAhaghhaGaGHFA! There's a… first time for… everything!'**

"Dude you're sick! I wouldn't touch Luna if my life depended on it; she's worse than a mud-blood."

Obviously elated by this the Succubus began to laugh and cause Hermione no end of distress. This was becoming too much! Too many voices… so many sick and twisted words flowing into her brain. She couldn't take it. How dare they talk about Luna in that way? Men, they were all the same… unclean and impulsive, Hermione would never touch something so unclean. And, what's more, the Succubus agreed… men were sickening but women, now that was something entirely different.

'**HaGHGahAGhagHaggH! To… dirty something… innocent… nothing like it!'**

"Haha dude you are too…"

…

That was it… enough was enough. Hermione was going to hurt them; she was going to actively pursue the most painful option open to her. She was going to rip and tear into them. No one would treat Luna like this; they would be made to pay. But before Hermione could prepare a plan, or think of more heinous acts, a voice suddenly shot straight through the fog of her conscience.

"Hermione!"

…

"Hermione!"

…

"Luna, w-what is it?" Hermione asked, finally coming to her senses.

What the hell had just happened to her? Why did she say those things! She, the sweet and caring Hermione Granger, had contemplated the thought of tearing into another student. This was crazy! She wasn't a monster that took pleasure in punishment, no, Hermione was a law abiding muggle. What had come over her!? Where had that power even come from!? Why did…

"Hermione, listen to me," Luna repeated, a hand resting on Hermione's chest.

"Luna." Hermione reiterated, noticing, for the first time, that her expression had turned very serious.

"Did something happen to you? You looked like you were in some sort of trance."

"W-What do you mean?"

"From the very beginning I noticed it. You've changed. There's an aura around you that wasn't quite so strong the last time we met. I mean, it was always there but now it's… almost overwhelming."

Staying deftly silent, Hermione froze when she felt Luna's hands inspect her body. Luna's touch was much like how she was normally, innocent and gentle. To the brunette's surprise, Luna's hands roamed all around her body, the touch gentle and calming in contrast to the rage that pulsed within her veins. Never venturing too far into untested waters, or into places that would have been considered inappropriate, Luna continued as a soft glow began to emit from beneath her fingers.

Luna's hands continued to trail along Hermione's, fingers tracing the line of her palm while the other hand swept along her dainty forearm. Despite herself, Hermione closed her eyes and allowed this feeling of tranquillity to wash over her. The previous anger which could not be tamed had inexplicably vanished, tamed by a beautiful heart and kind soul.

This was blissful… and she wished it would last forever…

"Hermione," Luna said, her hands grasping Hermione's tightly. "No matter what happens, no matter what difficulties you face, remember that you do not have to shoulder these burdens alone. I am here for you, as are your friends. If you ever need to talk, to vent grievances, then speak to me. I will always be here to listen."

Surprised, Hermione stuttered a reply. "Luna, what's going on? What do you mean? What difficulties?"

"I recognise a change in you. One you cannot control. Just know that I will be here for you when other turns on you, when others need more than you can possibly give them."

Hermione's confusion was further compounded when Luna unexpectedly reached up towards the brunette and wrapped her in a tight hug. Unresponsive, Hermione tried to take stock of the situation but was rather distracted by Luna's rhythmic breathing. It was like music to her ears, so soft and gentle. That summed Luna up pretty well, soft and gentle. She could have spent the whole day holding Luna and not a moment would have been wasted. In fact, Hermione had half a mind to do just that.

"And thank you for finding my school bag and shoe." Luna whispered.

Surprised by this utterance, Hermione broke away from the hug and saw a shoe and school bag clutched in Luna's hand. Stuttering and looking from Luna to her bag, Hermione shook her head. What the hell was happening to her today? Everything seemed to be passing her by. When had Luna found the time to retrieve her bag from those bullies? The simple answer is she couldn't! What the hell was going on?

"It wasn't me. I didn't do anything."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Luna whispered, offering Hermione one last hug. "Thanks again, Hermione. I'll see you around…"

And with that, Luna pulled away from the hug and continued along the corridor. Hermione's following the beautiful blonde down the hallway, a smile plastered on her lips.

'**No need… To… Thank… Me!'**

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**.**

**.**

Having spent the last hour in an unused compartment, Hermione was about to change into her robes when she suddenly realised something. She had neglected to bring her Gryffindor clothes with her when she had ended the squabble between Ron and Ginny. Sighing, Hermione knew it would only be a matter of time before the Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogwarts, and so exited the compartment at a pace.

Avoiding various students milling around the hallways, some wearing their robes, others not, Hermione navigated her way towards the cubicle. She didn't make it far, however, as, by accident; Hermione had collided into someone who had to stumble to keep her balance. Hurriedly rushing to apologise to the poor woman she had almost bowled over, Hermione quickly stuttered to a halt upon inspection.

"Daphne?" The figure said, never turning to face the person who had knocked into her.

"Yes?" Daphne Greengrass replied, turning to look at her friend and then Hermione.

It was, however, at this moment that Daphne was halted in her tracks. Staring openly at Hermione, her eyes scanning the brunette's flushed cheeks and the bountiful breasts which heaved from some unknown exertion, Daphne wet her lips. My, how the mud-blood has grown, Daphne thought, her eyes roaming over every piece of luscious skin she could find. Despite her pure blood leanings, Daphne couldn't deny that Hermione had just become the hottest thing on the table.

Hermione - and it really hurt to say this - looked absolutely delicious, so delicious in fact that Daphne had to bite down hard on her lip.

When did this mud-blood become so ravenous to the eye?

Quickly returning to the present situation, however, Daphne caught on to the end of her friend's reply.

"… Who was it that bumped into me?"

Turning to face Hermione again - whose eyes had widened at both the Slytherin's - Daphne smiled teasingly. This would be fun. Daphne was sure that her friend would tear Hermione a new one, she always had in the past.

And, what Daphne wanted to see most of all, was the sight of this beautiful creature crying in front of her. That would surely get her aroused because, mud-blood or not, Daphne couldn't help but imagine a variety of situations where Hermione's crying would turn her on. The thought was, admittedly, twisted but that was the kind of person Daphne was…

"It was the mud-blood Granger, Pansy. I believe you know each other…"

"Granger!" Pansy muttered, a slew of curses following, whispered under her breath. But, when she was about to tear the unfortunate mud-blood a new one, she was suddenly stunned into silence. The moment Pansy turned in Hermione's direction, she was a goner; all words had been forced out of her. Pansy merely stared at Hermione, her eyes scanning her facial features while her mouth hung wide open.

"Why did…" Pansy mumbled while a flush steadily crawled up her neck. Aware of this, Pansy tried to keep her composure while her face reddened and her lips became dry. The few words that escaped from Pansy were almost breathless; the sight of Hermione had clearly affected her in some unforeseeable way. It was a bizarre sight, to say the least, for all that passed Pansy by.

"You… shouldn't… have…"

Silence followed these words, a quivering lip entering the fray. This was too much. Why was Pansy, the Slytherin Princess, left speechless when she had the advantage to press ahead? Hermione was in the wrong, for once in her life, Hermione deserved to be criticised. But Pansy couldn't find the words, her lip trembling and her eyes slightly watery as she looked down at the floor.

"I mean… are you oka… What…? I…"

Nervously, her face flushing completely red, Pansy started to wring her hands together, attempting to regulate her frantic breathing. She could feel eyes on her, the eyes of both Hermione and Daphne. Why where they looking at her like that? Nothing was up, she was fine. Why were Hermione's stunning eyes searching hers? Why did Daphne look at her in embarrassment and horror?

Finally, unable to bear the pressure of this situation, Pansy carefully brushed past Hermione, her face turned down towards the floor the whole way.

"L-Look where you're going, next time." Pansy huffed, embarrassment clear in her voice. She didn't stop walking, afraid to turn and see Hermione's expression once again. What the hell had happened to her? Why was she breathless? And, why in the name of god, was she touching her lip with her fingers!?

"Hey! Hey, Pansy," Daphne called, giving one last, confused, look towards Hermione before chasing her friend. "Wait up! What the hell was that about!?"

Watching Daphne chase Pansy down the corridor, Hermione remained stock still, a hand rising to her lips without her knowledge. Confusion swarmed through her mind once more, Hermione's eyes quickly scanning her vicinity to make sure no one had seen what had happened. What would they have seen anyway? What the hell had happened?

Despite herself, Hermione voiced the only thought that had raced through her mind when she had seen Pansy in all her glory. The one thing she had never expected and would probably be haunted by all through the night. Were these simple words…

…

…

"I want Pansy!"

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Author's Note: Hello again ladies and gentlemen. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

I would also like to offer my apologies once again; last time I posted I promised people that I would get another chapter up in two to three weeks. Unfortunately, however, that never materialised because of work related issues that my colleagues had failed to inform me of. It took about a month to sort out and I'm still not completely in the clear, but I was free enough to write this chapter on all of my available off days. My schedule should clear up on the 18th July, which is when my holiday starts, so I'm hoping to write more after that time.

Furthermore, I know I have promised you guys and gals things again and again but failed to deliver on them. I am really sorry about this, so many things get in the way and I have had next to no time off work. This is why I am not going to make any more promises, I always break them and I feel you deserve more than that. I will give you updates on my Fan Fic page, progress of chapters etc but I won't say a chapter will be up in these chapters. I won't give an estimation because many of you have clearly gotten your hopes up and then written your displeasure that I had lied again.

Now, onto slightly better news, we are slowly approaching the reveal of one of the most asked for female characters in Harry Potter. You should all know who I am talking about. She will not be in the next chapters but she will be arriving soon. What's more, most of you seem to think that this story starts at the Goblet of Fire… why would you think that :P

All the best to you, dear reader. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and before I leave, I will leave you with the current rundown on the female characters who are going after Hermione. You will notice one quite obvious omission, but remember if you won't this character to appear please write the name down in a review or PM and I will add it to the score. Otherwise, your favourite may not make the cut.

Hermione = Ginny x Daphne x Pansy x ? x ? x ? x ? x ?

P.S. The beta reader I used to use is no longer available, if anyone would like to beta read this I would be very much grateful.


	8. Ch 8: Every day is a beautiful prison

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 8: Every day is a beautiful prison.

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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"Now, if all first year students could turn their attentions to me, please." Professor McGonagall announced, a hand resting on the sorting hat. "Thank you. Then we will begin the sorting. Many of you might be familiar with our methods of sorting but to those who are not, please, don't worry. The process is very simple. To begin with I will call out your names in alphabetical order and when you hear your name all you need to do is sit on this stool and place the hat on your head."

Allowing a small, reassuring smile to grace her lips Professor McGonagall reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a parchment from within. Many of the students – both new and old – held their collective breath. This was going to be the start of what could only be described as a wonderful yet chaotic life. Everyone in the School knew it, and each house waited tentatively preparing to applaud their newest additions to their Family.

Licking her dry lips, Professor McGonagall allowed her eyes to leave the parchment and wander towards the Gryffindor table. It didn't take long before her eyes found her favourite pupil, none other than Miss Hermione Granger. Only this time something seemed very off about her. This wasn't the Hermione Granger she remembered, at least from appearances sake.

Albus had talked about changes but McGonagall had always believed they would have been of a more psychological aspect rather than her physique. Hermione was already gathering a fair share of eyes because of her new and, admittedly, improved appearance. This was very troubling news indeed. But, on the bright side, at least only the female members of the student body appeared to be affected by her newfound allure. If the boys too had been affected, well… she simply wouldn't have been able to attend School anymore. And the world would never have prospered from her superior intellect or her ability to make the correct decision regardless of the pressure she was under.

Allowing the problem to shift to the back of her mind, Professor McGonagall turned to the situation at hand. "Abbie Clement, please step forward."

…

Meanwhile, sitting directly in the middle of the Gryffindor table, her nails scratching absentmindedly against the wooden table happened to be one Hermione Granger. In previous years Hermione would have been listening to this speech with bated breath, hanging on Professor McGonagall's every word and clapping enthusiastically when a new Gryffindor entered the fold, but today something seemed amiss. She tried to remain attentive, or at least appear so to the others on the table, but she couldn't muster the effort to accomplish this rather simple task. To all eyes that watched her – and believe me there were a few – Hermione looked disinterested, her gaze cloudy and her focus placed solely on the table in front of her.

"Gryffindor!"

As the sorting hat announced the name of her house aloud - the Gryffindor table erupting in cheers as Abbie nervously made her way towards her new house - Hermione remained motionless. While Harry, Ron and Ginny jumped out of their seats clapping hysterically and offering their congratulations to the new girl further down the table, Hermione continued to claw her nails into the table. Nothing registered.

In Hermione's world there was no sound, an endless array of white noise, and her eyes watched as her nails scratched the surface of the wooden table again and again. She was practically hypnotised by the sight, the repetitive motion soothing her in ways that did not feel normal. Even in her periphery she could sense something was going on, but it did not matter. Nothing mattered but this writing on the table.

"Alice Flanagan." Professor McGonagall called.

Sitting back down at the table, Ginny turned towards Hermione on instinct and was somewhat surprised by the sight which greeted her. Hermione wasn't moving. She wasn't blinking. She was just… looking at her hands and scratching something into the table? Concerned, Ginny edged a little closer to Hermione and ignored the cheers that erupted from the Hufflepuff table.

"Hermione?" Ginny called.

Once again Hermione didn't move, she didn't seem to register anything at all and continued to claw something into the table. Feeling curious as to what Hermione found so important, Ginny leaned to the side and glanced towards the area around Hermione's hands. It was hard to tell but there was definitely something there. She would have gotten a better view but Hermione's hands kept obscuring whatever was being scratched onto the table.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Ginny tried again, resting a hand against the brunette's shoulder.

Suddenly shocked into motion, the light returning to her eyes, Hermione had very little time to register what was going on before she was assaulted by sound. In the space of a few seconds a loud cheer had erupted from somewhere within the Great Hall, the sound causing a jolt of fright to creep up the brunette's tense body. Before she could acclimatise to these new found changes a sudden shiver ran through her spine, originating from her shoulder of all places. So, without even looking, Hermione brushed the offending hand away from her and moved away from whoever had felt it necessary to place it there.

Startled by the unexpected rejection, Ginny's hand hovered in the air, her eyes fixed on Hermione's retreating figure. Why was Hermione - her best friend - cowering away from her? Why did she look petrified and unsure where she was? Having little time to answer these questions Ginny lowered her hand from sight, but her eyes never left Hermione's.

"I-I'm sorry, Ginny," Hermione stammered, nervously brushing a few locks of hair from her eyes. "You startled me… I didn't see you and… eh, I'm sorry for touching you…"

Bemused, Ginny spoke before she could stop herself. "For touching me? Why would you be sorry about that?"

'**Touch… Fuck… All the…Same…'**

"It's nothing," Hermione replied, ignoring the voice which was creeping back in and out of her consciousness. "Please forget about it. I'm just really tired."

Leaning closer to Hermione, Ginny carefully rested a hand against her friends. She waited patiently, allowing the brunette to remove her hand if she wanted to but when she found little resistance Ginny pressed on. "Hermione, listen to me. Is everything alright? Do you want to talk about something? You know, I'm always her if you need me Hermione. Please don't forget that."

Feeling her temperature rise as she listened to the concern from her best friend; Hermione smiled and gripped Ginny's hand that bit tighter. When the pressure was returned Hermione couldn't help but flush, Ginny's hands were so soft and warm. What was it about Ginny that made her heart skip a beat? What made Ginny so wonderful? How could she so easily provide her comfort even in times of stress? When… When had Ginny's lips looked so plump and red?

As silenced passed, the sound from the other students no longer registering, Hermione's eyes focused solely on the cherry red lips that formed such a beautiful smile. Wow. That was the only thought that passed through Hermione's mind. How did Ginny's lips glisten like that? They looked so inviting. A strange thought to say the least but one that seemed to permeate throughout her entire being. The thought of Ginny's lips, both lush and seemingly pliable to the touch was incredible. They were so many different shades of red, light in some places and yet dark in others. How was this even possible?

"Hermione?" A voice called, those supple lips forming the words as the voice spoke.

"Huh?"

"Hermione, you're doing it again."

With great effort Hermione managed to remove her eyes from Ginny's lips, focusing on the mocha brown of her eyes instead which she found an equally breath-taking sight. "D-Doing what?"

"You're spacing out again." Ginny laughed, playfully nudging the brunette.

"A-Am I? Sorry, like I said it's… it's been a long day."

Giggling and unaware that she was now half sitting in Hermione's chair, Ginny turned towards Hermione's direction. The distance between the two could have easily been breached by nothing more than a few centimetres, but both girls seemed unaffected by this as they continued to stare deeply into each other's eyes. They just took in each other's beauty without realising what they were doing or the effect it was having on the other.

"I bet it has. Now, what could make the Great Hermione Granger space out like this, I wonder?"

Aware that her lips were dry – but too afraid to lick them should her tongue come into contact with Ginny's cherry lips – Hermione could only stare at Ginny. Every breath was laboured and her nails were now so deep into the table that you could no longer see her nails at all. How could someone so beautiful, so stunning and gorgeous be this close to her? She was no one, just the bookworm known as Hermione Granger, and yet Ginny, her best friend - and the best looking girl in Gryffindor by some distance - was evading her personal space. Should she describe this moment as bliss or unrelenting torture?

"I-I-It's nothing. Please, Ginny let it go."

"Oh, no no no. I do not think so, Miss Granger. I haven't seen you like this since… well, ever. There is no way I'm letting this go. So, go on tell me. What's been making you space out? Is it a guy?"

Surprised by this, and Ginny's unreasonable persistence, Hermione removed herself from Ginny's proximity and returned her attention to her hands. "Eh, it's nothing, like I said. And it is certainly not a guy. I'm just tired, please, let it go."

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny groaned like that of a child, her body reclining on the table dramatically. "How can I let this go? The last time someone looked at me so intently was when they were about to stick their tongue down my throat. You can't expect me not to take interest in whatever your thinking. So, come on. Who is it?"

Flushing to an unhealthy shade of pink, Hermione turned her face away from Ginny and scowled. She hated these kinds of conversations. She hated it when she had to listen to Parvati and Padma argue over which boy would make their top 20, and what's more Ginny knew she hated talk of romance. It was frustrating. She just… wasn't interested in that kind of stuff. I mean, she was too young and had other things to deal with that took priority over needless things like love and attraction. That's why she never found anyone pleasing to the eye.

"Enough, Ginny. I'm not going to talk about this anymore. You've had your fun, now let me be."

Realising she might have gone too far, Ginny held her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. I give in. You can keep your secrets. But, seriously, if you ever want to talk about something that's been troubling you, come see me. I am always happy to listen."

"I know." Hermione whispered, her scowl lifting to be replaced with a smile. "Thank you."

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Now that Ginny was preoccupied, talking with another girl from her year across the table, Hermione's eyes returned to her fingers. They felt strangely numb and worn compared to a few moments ago, and couldn't figure out why that was? However, as she lifted her hands to her eyes, the brunette suddenly noticed the words etched onto the wood and immediately lowered her hands to cover them.

'_Oh My God… When did I…? But I couldn't have… I would have known…'_

Lifting her hands to look at the offending words, Hermione froze once again, and immediately slammed her hands back against the table. This action, of course, earned her quite a few confused stares but for the most part nobody pried. That was a relief because she honestly didn't know whether she could maintain her composure while people asked what she was hiding. Not when she had written such un-Hermione like words into the table.

Lifting her hand from the table nonchalantly, Hermione looked at the words one more time.

'FUCK'

'SHAG'

'DOMINATE'

'PREGNATE'

'PANSY'

'GINNY'

All of these words had been scratched into the table by her own hand. How and when had she done this? Hermione had no idea but the evidence was there for all to see. It stained her fingers and she was the only one who had sat in this space. Turning and looking around her Hermione knew she needed to act quickly; she had to remove this writing somehow.

But, how? She could use magic of course but that would require a wand which would be far too obvious. She did not have the knowledge or ability to perform magic without the use of a wand, and what's more very few wizards or witches could even accomplish such a task. Only Albus Dumbledore, Shirley and Lord Voldermort could manage such a thing in this day and age, not even the auror's or other equally powerful Death Eaters. No, wand less magic simply wasn't an option in this situation; it was an option that could only be afforded to magical… magical…

Wait…

Wait a minute…

That was it. The only species that could perform wand less magic – the only species that could acquire such ability through an innate trait – were powerful magical creatures. Like her. If the Succubus was to be believed then she too should have this power, a Succubus was a powerful magical creature after all. They were up there with the Sirens and the Veela who could all access the flow of magic through their fingertips.

That was it. She could save herself from the embarrassment that would have come with finding such markings on her side of the table. She was saved… But, wait… How could she even access this ability? She had read many books on wand less magic, having been interested in the theoretical aspect of it as she very much doubted she could wield such a power.

But the problem with the books she discovered on the subject was that they offered very little. The books she read simply stated that wizards and witches could not access the flow of magic without use of a wand, that to attempt this would make you look very stupid. All of the really useful books on wand less magic were in the restricted section of the library and while she was curious on the subject, her need to abide by the rules won through. She had nothing; this too was no longer an option. What would she do? She had to think. She had always been considered the brightest witch of her age, now it was time to prove it.

'**I KNOW…'**

'_What?'_

'**I-I-I… KNOW… WAND LESS… MAGIC…'**

'_How? You're not even a real thing. You're just a representation of the Succubus inside me, you're barely even lucid. How could you help me?'_

'**I HAVE… TEMPERED…'**

'_Oh for god sake, don't stop now. What were you saying? Speak up!'_

'**I HAVE TEMPERED… YOUR MAGICAL… ABILITY… BUT I CAN… PROVIDE YOU ACCESS… TO WAND LESS… M-MAGIC…'**

'_Really!? You could do that? How?!'_

'**NO…'**

'_What?"'_

'**I SAID… CAN… NOT… WILL…'**

'_Oh for fu… You are beyond useless. Are you just here to torment me?'_

'**YOU ARE NOT… YET READY… POWER MUST… BE GIFTED… IN SHORT TRANSITIONS… OVERWISE… DEATH AWAITS…'**

'_Then, please, do something. You caused this, you wrote this. So, undo it.'_

'**NO…'**

'_Oh, come on! We share a body now which means you have to take responsibility for your actions. If we are to live as one entity then you must clean up after yourself. It is only fair.'_

'**HMM… SO… ARE WE… EQUALS?'**

Pondering on this and the bond that she now shared with this Succubus, Hermione breathed in deeply. She knew what she had to do. This Succubus was a child, uncontrollable at times and prone to its own desires but still a child none the less. This much she had come to realise only recently. It was nothing more than a theory on her part but she believed in its authenticity all the same. She had spent a long time mulling over the existence of the voice inside her head and finally reached a suitable consensus.

The Succubus was simply new to the world; it did not know what was right from wrong. Maybe this was what Rose, her mother, had been hinting at earlier. To beat the Succubus you had to learn to nurture it, like a mother to a child. Could the answer have been this simple? Is this the reason why her mother acted the way she did because the Succubus inside had been nurtured, treated properly and made to understand the ways of humanity?

Was this what her Mother wanted her to learn? Did she leave some clues behind which led her to this discovery? Nevertheless it did not matter now; Hermione knew she had to make a choice. And, it was a choice she would not make lightly.

'_Yes… We are equals… And as equals we must learn to co-exist, do you understand me?'_

…

'_Do you understand me?'_

…

'**Yes…'**

'_Then help me…'_

And then suddenly - and without warning - a strange warmth began to course through her veins, residing in the hands which rested against the table. Looking around nervously, fearing that someone could see what she was doing and bring attention to it, the heat in Hermione's hand bubbled to the surface of her skin. It felt so hot, she was now beginning to sweat and a feeling of drowsiness began to wash over her.

Then, as suddenly as the pain and heat had come, it gradually began to disappear. Despite her best efforts, Hermione's hands still remained stuck to the table. It seemed whatever was going on underneath her hand wasn't quite finished yet. The voice even told her as much, sounding annoyed by the persistence shown by the brunette it lived inside.

After a few seconds the heat inside her body began to recede, and her hand left the now pristine table. It was gone. The marks on the table had disappeared. Sighing in relief, Hermione pressed her head to the table and felt the warmth still emanating from it. She didn't care though; relief still washed over her and caused a smile to grace her cherry lips.

'_Thank you…'_

'… **YOU'RE WELCOME…'**

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Having finished her conversation with Anna, Ginny turned back towards Hermione and was once again left feeling rather bemused. What the hell was going on? Why was Hermione resting her head against the table with a huge smile on her face?

This was getting ridiculous now and something was clearly up. The fact that Hermione didn't want to share caused the young redhead an unreasonable amount of discomfort. This was it; she has grown tired of being shut out. Hermione Granger was her best friend and she loved her dearly, she needed to find out who Hermione was interested in (because that was clearly the issue here) so that she could convey a strong hands off-warning well in advance.

No one was good enough for her Hermione, and she didn't care how childish that sounded. She would only give Hermione to someone deserving and she had met no one who fitted that description as of yet. Not even Ron, her own brother, deserved Hermione's constant presence. In fact, as of now, no one did.

"Hermione?" Ginny whispered, her temper beginning to boil under the surface.

Once again, when Ginny's hand came into contact with Hermione's skin, the brunette jumped in her seat. Only this time a startled shriek slipped passed her lips for everyone to hear. All noise in the hall came to an abrupt halt at this, even Professor McGonagall, who had been reading out the next name had been shocked into silence. All eyes moved towards the brightest witch of their age, hands pointing her out to the newcomers. Even Ginny simply stared open eyed, while Hermione stared equally as frightened as she looked between Harry, Ron and Ginny.

…

"Whoa, what was that about?"

"D-Did you hear that? Hermione-Fucking- Granger just screamed aloud in the Hall. This is priceless?"

…

"Wow! She got a nice pair of lungs on her, that one. I wouldn't mind hearing that in the bedroom."

"W-What?! You've got a boyfriend, Zoe. And in any case… How could you say that about another girl?"

"… I-I was… j-joking… you know me. I like to go too far…"

"… Why are you blushing, Zoe?!"

…

Coughing, realising that her favourite student had put herself in an incredibly embarrassing situation, Professor McGonagall quickly brought proceedings back to focus. "Ehm, next we have Jack Stephenson. If you could please walk towards the stool and place the hat on your head, just as before. Would everyone please keep their attention fixed on me, now! You are all behaving most inappropriately."

…

Relieved that the focus had been shifted away from her, and that Professor McGonagall had taken control of the situation, Hermione tried to avoid Ginny's eyes. While most of the student body had taken their eyes off Hermione, Ginny had not even blinked, still staring at the girl who had screamed in fear of her touch.

It had been an unfortunate time for Ginny to touch Hermione because –moments before – the brightest witch of her age had only just realised that her underwear had been stained by her arousal. This was what had caused the scream. The sudden realisation followed by the unexpected intrusion had caused such a rather surprising reaction. She was very embarrassed by it, and knew Ginny would have some very searching questions. Questions which would have to come second to her own, unfortunately, as Hermione had many racing through her head.

When had this happened? Hermione did not know.

It shouldn't have happened. Regardless of the thoughts and vivid images which were being created in Hermione's mind.

The image of Pansy naked, her Slytherin attire being used as a makeshift bed, her breasts heaving in anticipation shouldn't have made her horny. The thought of Hermione's teeth gripping Ginny's delicious bottom lip shouldn't have caused this much wetness, nor the hands that were fiddling inside Ginny's panties. This was all wrong, and not all the images were as complimentary as the ones mentioned. Some were downright heinous and yet strangely erotic all at the same time. It was wrong to feel horny as a young Ginny fought Hermione's hold, tears dripping down her cheeks, begging her to stop, but the beast inside her liked all kinds of intimacy.

This was why Hermione had screamed. She felt repulsed by thoughts which were not her own, the image of her own self practically raping Ginny Weasley had frightened her. Why was the Succubus behaving like this? Why did Hermione sense that it was upset? What had she done to anger it when they were, seemingly, on such good terms?

Despite her pleas, her demands and her anger, the visuals had kept on coming before being shattered when Ginny's dainty hand reached out to touch her. Now she was scared, scared of what she might do, what the Succubus might do if Ginny came too close.

"Hermione?" Ginny gulped, before fixing the young brunette with a stern gaze. "What the hell was that?"

"It was nothing, Ginny. You just startled me again," Hermione stuttered, rushing through what she was saying. "I mean, anyone would have screamed if they had been touched unexpectedly."

"No, Hermione. No, they really wouldn't. That is not a normal reaction to being touched by someone, no matter how prepared they are."

"Ginny, please, just let it go. This is really embarrassing and I don't want to embarrass myself even further. People are already talking about me and…"

"Let them talk," Ginny said aloud, motioning towards everyone which earned a scowl from Professor McGonagall who had been interrupted mid-flow. "I don't care about them. I care about you. What's been going on with you lately? You've been jumping at shadows and unresponsive all day. Hell, I know it's a load of bullshit, but people have been saying they saw you in the Slytherin section of the Hogwarts Express. That you even sent Pansy- freaking – Parkinson running, for god knows what reason. Be straight with me. What the hell is going on?"

"Ginny, nothing is going on. I just had a long holiday and didn't have much time to rest."

"Did something happen to you on your holiday? Are your parents treating you right?"

Stunned by this, and Ginny's persistence, Hermione backed away a little bit. "N-No nothing happened during the holiday. And my parents have been great. I mean it's been a little awkward with them recently but that's to be expected, isn't it."

Letting the moment pass in silence, Ginny scanned Hermione's facial features, looking for any signs of nerves. It had always worked before; Hermione's resistance would crack without a second's notice when it came to the youngest Weasley's excruciating gaze. This time would prove no different. Ginny was already confident of this fact.

"You're lying to me, Hermione."

"I-I'm not…" Hermione whispered turning away from Ginny's disappointed gaze.

Sighing at Hermione's childishness, Ginny waited a moment before she leaned towards the brunette's ear. Licking her lips, she began to speak. "We're going to have a little talk, tonight. I know something's wrong and you are going to tell me everything. There's no escaping this; I don't care if I have to fight you into submission… I want answers."

….

Suddenly, at Ginny's last words, a vision of Ginny tied up on a bed, completely naked came to mind. The image was vivid, Ginny's breath which flowed against her bare breasts were as real as the breath which now fanned her ear. The young red head appeared completely open; sweat glistening all over her body, her red vibrant hair splayed out all over the pillow and her entrance sore yet wet.

The image was incredibly arousing, especially since another far more attractive Hermione was rubbing herself up and down Ginny's knee, her hands around Ginny's neck keeping her upright as she thrusted frantically. She could see their panting, their moans of delight echo within a dark room which held no discernible features. Ginny's cries of ecstasy, her swollen lip all fresh in the brunette's mind as she spoke to the real Ginny Weasley.

…

Returning back to the real world, the image of Ginny's naked, glistening body still fresh in her mind, Hermione blinked and simply nodded in reply. Not that Ginny noticed, she had already turned away and found the matter dealt with. She would get her answers whether Hermione wanted to let them out or not. Little old Ginny had a plan and it involved staying the night if the need should arise, and it would most definitely arise as she would never pass up an opportunity to sleep next to her best friend. A warm body to rest beside her always felt nice, and not any body, Hermione's always offered such a strange comfort and familiarity. She would never admit it to the older girl but she craved there connection and would do anything to be closer to the one person she truly admired.

Hermione, meanwhile, was feeling increasingly uncomfortable by her present situation. What was once nothing more than a light drip against her panties had resulted on the cloth becoming stained beyond belief. She could feel the wetness every time she shifted her legs and it was incredibly uncomfortable. God she hoped this sorting would end soon, please let it end soon.

"Wesley Lawson." Professor McGonagall read out, almost as if on cue.

Sighing in relief, Hermione crossed her legs and prayed that she could get the hell out of this hall without any unpleasant happenings. Knowing her luck, however, Lord Voldermort was probably waiting behind the corner with his band of psychopaths with the intention of flipping every woman's skirt just to see how clean they were. It would be just her luck, wouldn't it?

Noticing a lull in professor McGonagall's speech, Hermione looked up and was surprised to find her sitting behind the staff table. Had the sorting just ended? Was – what was his name – Wesley the last person to be called up from the first years? It seemed so. However, just as she was about to relax, she felt a new set of eyes on her and it didn't take Hermione long to realise where they were coming from.

Why is Professor McGonagall staring at me? Hermione wondered, trying to ignore the Professor's stare with very little success. Was it because of my scream? Well, she certainly looked concerned that much Hermione could tell when their eyes did eventually meet.

It was a look Hermione was not used to, especially coming from her favourite teacher, but Professor McGonagall did seem to be watching her closely. She could be seen talking with Albus on occasion before her gaze would fall back to her; she didn't even seem perturbed when Hermione caught her staring. She merely raised her eyebrow and continued to stare with a look of concern on her face.

Thankfully, Professor McGonagall was forced to focus her attention away from Hermione the moment the Headmaster stood to his feet. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, not quite knowing why she felt so relieved, but that didn't stop the sigh from leaving her mouth.

Finally, Albus was about to speak and then the food would arrive. After that she could scamper away from the hall and change her panties, perhaps even lock the door so that Ginny couldn't get in. She had it all planned out, unfortunately some things don't always go according to plan.

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"Welcome, one and all, to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you have all come back from your holidays fully energised and with tales worthy of sharing with both friends and loved ones. Now, as I wish to delay you no longer than is needed, I would like to say a few words before we become too befuddled by our excellent feast," Albus Dumbledore said his eyes scanning over every student individually, as was his way.

"This is a very serious matter. So, I would ask that I have your undivided attention. There are a number of matters that I feel I must disclose to you as this year will be very different compared to previous ones. Since you have been away I am sure you have all heard the Ministry of Magic's stance on the return of Lord Voldermort."

A collective gasp resounded across the Great Hall; a name that should never have been mentioned had just been spoken aloud. Following the sound down the table, Hermione was left feeling unsurprised to see Ron's look of horror and the sight of Neville's frog scampering away due to its owners frozen appearance.

Even the Succubus inside her seemed to shudder, cowering away so that Hermione had a moment of complete control of her thoughts. And then there was Harry who looked completely untroubled by what the Headmaster had just said and seemed to hang on to every word the old man said.

She too was untroubled by the use of Lord Voldemort's name because, in truth, there was no fear to be found in a name; it was a lesson she had learnt long ago. One she had learnt from one of her best friends, Harry, through his courage and determination to best a man who could invoke fear in the hearts of even the strongest of men.

The fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself; a lesson she had learnt long ago.

…

"I most impose on you a truth that you may not wish to hear but know that I speak it because you must know. Lord Voldemort has returned," Another round of gasps filled the room, followed by murmur of discontent from all of the houses, including Slytherin. "He returned the night that one of our own, Cedric Diggory, a courageous and kind young man, had his life cruelly taken away from not only him but from us as well. The Ministry would have you believe that what I tell you is a lie. That Mr Diggory died due to an unfortunate accident involving a port key. All lies, Lord Voldemort has returned and because of this I demand vigilance from each and every one of you."

Not missing a beat or waiting for the murmurings to die down, Albus continued. "Now more than ever I ask you to listen and obey the rules that we have placed upon you. Do not enter the Forbidden Forest after dark, do not enter places which are restricted within the School and most importantly of all… do not wander the School after dark. Patrols of the School and its perimeter's have been tightened for your safety, but if they were to find you, and mistake you for someone you are not, then they will not aim to disarm. Let that be a warning to all of you, now more than ever, please, do what you are told and go on with your lives."

Straightening the collar of his robe, his eyes glancing from Harry, Ron and Hermione to the famous Weasley twins, Albus lowered his glasses with a stern look. Even Hermione could hear the Weasley twins gulping as they returned their new merchandise to their pockets. Albus looked very serious and that made everyone in the room equally nervous. He was nervous like this…

For the past few weeks the Ministry of Magic had been passing propaganda to the media, calling the Great Albus Dumbledore out of touch and paranoid. They had refuted all claims of the Dark Lords return and had even branded Harry a glutton for the spotlight. Many had obviously believed the Ministry as Hermione had heard many a student mock Harry as he passed, not that he seemed to mind too greatly. But now, now, the student body were silenced, many of them staring at friends in an uneasy manner.

…

"Is he serious?"

"Have you ever known the Headmaster to lie? Of course he's telling the truth. Why would he lie?"

"But, if the Headmaster is telling the truth… then, the Ministry of Magic is lying. That's even more ridiculous."

…

Meanwhile, Albus, reaching into his robe pocket fished out a battered old parchment, untying it while the students murmurs began to grow louder and louder. There sounds were immediately silenced, however, when the Headmaster placed the parchment against the stand and lifted his hand into the air.

"Now, as I was saying earlier. Many of you will find this year a very unwelcome departure from your previous ones due to the changes that will be happening all the way through the School year. One of the biggest changes, that will affect not only your School life but your personal ones as well, is the prospect of co-existing with another School entirely. Many of you have probably heard of the disaster that befell Beaubaxton Academy. For those that do not, let me inform you of what happened upon Beaubaxton's return from the Tri-Wizard tournament."

Upon mention of Beaubaxton Academy, the student body quickly descended into excited murmurs and worried whispers. It seemed many still remembered the gorgeous French women who graced the School with their presence only a few months ago. The mention of their name was, unsurprisingly, met with a mixture of excitement and hair smoothing by the boys, and as for the girls very few looked best pleased.

…

"The Headmaster wants me to die a virgin, doesn't he?"

"Oh, come on Cassidy. It's not all bad news, think of the positives."

"What positives? I only just got Chris to look at me and now some gorgeous French girls are coming to live here. Oh god! You still love me don't you?"

"Yeah! Yeah! Now look presentable, Chris is looking this way."

…

"Upon Beaubaxton's return to their Glacier they were met with nothing but water. A group, known to have worked with the Death Eaters in the United Kingdom and Europe, have claimed responsibility for the attack and are now wanted men. However, while no one was harmed in the attack, Beaubaxton Academy are now without a home. Many have still not taken their exams as a result and all educated practices have been halted as a result. To rectify this situation I have permitted the students, staff and authorities of Beaubaxton Academy the use of our facilities until such a time when their School has been adequately rebuilt."

A round of celebration erupted from around the hall, not a single boy remained in his chair as they proceeded to hug one another. The girls meanwhile, Hermione included, proceeded to bash their heads against the School table as groans left their lips one after another. The joyous celebration was halted, however, by another stern look from Albus Dumbledore followed by a crack thunder erupting from above. It seemed Albus was not in the mood for this childish behaviour and he continued unabated.

"The students of Beaubaxton will not be staying on the premises as they did last year, however. Suitable arrangements have been made to ensure traffic between our students and there's will not interrupt or cause disruptions to classes. The Beaubaxton students will study in our castle, take lessons in our castle and eat meals in our castle. But they will be sleeping and spending their free time elsewhere. The Beaubaxton students will now live in a newly furbished area of Hogsmeade for the duration of their stay. I ask that you do not interfere with these new students without need. Furthermore, if you attempt to leave the ground of Hogwarts with the intention of interrupting their studies then you will be most disappointed." Albus said, eyes looking over the male students of the School with a piercing gaze.

"I have erected a barrier around the School and its grounds which will halt any movement towards Hogsmeade unless you have with you a written letter of consent," Albus lifted the parchment from his stand and waved in front of him. "If you are carrying this, then you may pass. It will be specific to a single student, so do not think you can take a friend's with you. If you are found to be entering Hogsmeade without a letter of consent then you will face harsh punishments, possibly even exclusion."

Ignoring the shocked gasps, Dumbledore continued. "Having said all this, however. All third years and above will still be permitted to visit Hogsmeade in the same fashion as you did in the past, as long as you have a letter of approval from your parents."

"Furthermore, Beaubaxton Academy will have a much larger student body compared to last year. The previous seventh years were unable to study properly for their exams and, due to frequent cancellations and delays, the French Government believed it would be best to give them an extended year of education. There will as a result be many changes to our rules and regulations as we adopt some new policies from our friends in Beaubaxton. For one, Beaubaxton have asked to be included in the Quidditch tournament that we hold every year and, after long held discussion, I have deemed it acceptable. More information concerning that will be given to you by your Heads of Houses."

A roar of excitement came from all corners of the Hall at this news, happiness from both sides in fact. The boys were happy because they got to see some very hot French ladies flying above them, although in their mind they were all wearing skirts for some bizarre reason. And the girls were happy because it might mean the romantic competition might be lessened if say… one of them were to fall off their broom.

"Now onto more pressing news," The crowd immediately hushed as Albus turned away from the student body and towards the door behind his chair. "Ah, I believe I hear our newest member of staff arriving for dinner."

Bemused, the crowd remained silent, even Hermione stalled her breath, hoping, expecting to hear something. But no sound came. She couldn't hear anyone approaching and the hallways in the School really did echo. Was someone really approaching?

"… I ask that all of you remain calm as I welcome a former student back to our fold. She has taken up the hazardous position of our new Defence against the Dark Arts Teacher. Many of you will find her a very familiar face but I ask that you show composure despite whatever you might be feeling. Now it is my very great honour and pleasure to introduce to you…"

Suddenly, as if on cue, the door behind the staff table opened and a cloaked figure moved forward. Unperturbed by the looks of confusion that greeted her arrival, the cloaked woman walked past the table and towards the stage where Albus stood. And then, in a seamless motion, the woman removed her hood and stepped towards the shocked faces that now greeted her.

She had expected this, of course. Everyone knew of her, especially in this School. They knew of her record, her exploits and that she had been held up as a hero to all women in the wizarding community. This was nothing new, and yet it still felt really uncomfortable for the young women who gripped her hands behind her back. Even after years of medals, awards and recognition, she still couldn't get used to appearing in front of a crowd of people.

"Miss Chloe Roberts!"

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"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

"IT'S HER. IT'S CHLOE ROBERTS, I TOLD YOU IT WAS HER!"

"OH MY GOD, IT'S CHLOE ROBERTS! OMG!"

The entire Hall erupted like nothing that Hermione had ever seen in her life, even the staff behind Albus staggered from their seats and looked at this… Chloe, in surprise. What was going on? Why was everyone reacting like this? She had never read anything about this Chloe Roberts person? No book ever made mention of her and yet the entire room was going insane without any attempts from the staff to get the situation under control.

Unexpectedly, the table shuddered dangerously as Ron and the rest of the boys along the line if chairs almost caused the table to perform a summersault. Looking further down the table, Hermione could see that Harry looked just bewildered as she did. And as for Ginny, well… Ginny just sat there with her mouth hanging open, eyes wide as she simply murmured words that Hermione could not decipher.

"Ron," Hermione finally called, tired of all the excitement within the room and feeling rather left out. "What the hell is going on? Who is Chloe Roberts?"

"What?!" Ron replied, looking mortified by the question. "You don't know who Chloe Roberts is? How could you not know when you have read all the books in the library?"

Annoyed by this, Hermione responded. "I have not read all of the books in the Library, Ronald. Don't be so absurd. Now, tell me who Chloe Roberts is?"

"Yeah, I'd like to know too. Why is everyone so excited? I've never even heard of her." Harry piped up, slipping in between two hugging female students to reach Hermione and Ron.

"Wait! Even you haven't heard of Chloe Roberts. What is wrong with you two? I would have understood if you had been first years coming from a muggle upbringing but you've been in the Wizarding world for a while now. How do you not know her?"

"Enough, Ron. I'm not looking to start an argument. Could you just explain what is going on? Who is Chloe Roberts?" Hermione asked, Harry adding his own thoughts when Ron looked like he was going to delay yet again.

"Okay, okay. Jheez I get it, already. Alright, to put it simply… Chloe Roberts is a fucking legend in our world."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, where to begin. During her time at Hogwarts, Chloe Roberts achieved the highest exam results of anyone in Europe. She's even fifth place worldwide in exam results, behind some serious competition. After Hogwarts, Chloe went on to become an Auror. Oh, and did I mention, she is the only person in the wizarding world to get higher than an outstanding in Defence against the Dark Arts."

"Don't be absurd, Ron. You can't get higher than an outstanding, that's as high as you can go." Hermione piped up, knowing Ron was mixing fiction with reality yet again.

"No," Ginny spoke up, her eyes still glued to Chloe Roberts who was looking at Albus a little uneasily. "He's not lying. She knows defensive spells that no other wizard or witch knows. They had to get the head from the Auror office to mark her scores and even he couldn't do the things she did."

Nodding in affirmation, Ron interjected. "Yeah, and that's not all. Chloe Roberts has the highest arrest rate out of anyone in the Auror's. Half of Azkaban, Tertian and Lucia are full because of her handy work. She's killed a number of the darkest wizards in the world, and is the reason why Bellatrix LeStrange was captured at all. She's done a tone of over stuff too, equally as impressive. She had her own secret division in the Ministry which dealt with the ugly side of the war which the government feigned knowledge of. She's notorious and sexy to boot."

"Wait a minute!" Hermione interrupted, the description of this person sounding incredibly familiar. "You're talking about Shirley, not Chloe Roberts, Ron. She's the one who achieved the highest exam results in Europe. Shirley's the one who arrested all those people you just named. You've got the wrong person."

"No he hasn't," Ginny answered, Hermione's eyes looking at Ginny disbelievingly. "Shirley was a false name she used to protect her family when they were still alive. Shirley and Chloe Roberts are the same person."

"B-But…But…" Hermione stuttered finding this information strange and unbelievable all at the same time. "But she looks nothing like Shirley. Shirley's blonde for god sake. Chloe's a brunette and their facial shapes look completely different from each other. How can they be the same person?"

"Chloe has the ability to transfigure her appearance without the need of a polyjuice potion. She was always looking for ways to keep her family safe. This is her actual appearance. In real life she is a brunette and has the face shape you see right in front of you," Ginny continued, finally tearing her eyes from her childhood hero. "Hermione this is the Chloe Roberts, the woman I've looked upto for years."

"But, wait a minute," Hermione said, ignoring the unintended collision she received from a fellow student as she spoke. "You said she needed to protect her family by disguising herself. Why isn't she disguising herself now?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron piped up, hoping Hermione would catch on to his drift. As expected Hermione caught on quickly and kept her silence but Harry still looked confused. "Her parents were killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. After her parents were killed and everyone she loved disappeared she kept her original features and hasn't transformed since."

"I see." Hermione whispered, turning to look at Chloe Roberts whose left leg could be seen tapping ferociously.

Spending a little more time to look at Chloe's features, Hermione felt the Succubus emerge from its previous shallow darkness. Chloe Roberts was truly a beauty beyond even the prettiest Veela. Dark green eyes accentuating a slim and yet equally soft face, dark brown hair as sleek as if she had only just stepped out of a spa. Her figure was slim and reminded Hermione of that of a model. That would have been the best way to describe Chloe Roberts. She had the appearance of a model but there was an unusual aura around her which grew in intensity the longer you looked.

"Is she a magical creature?" Hermione wondered out loud.

"No," Ginny responded. "Muggle born."

"Really?!" Hermione stammered, looking from Ginny to Chloe. "She's a muggle born. But all of the books I read said Shirley was born to a magical family."

"All to protect her family. She was scared that someone would use them to get to her. So she tried to protect them to the best of her abilities. It didn't work of course; the Dark Lord got her family while she was away in Bulgaria."

Unexpectedly, however, while Ginny was explaining this, a new feeling of wetness stained her panties and Hermione shuddered when she finally registered the contact. The pleasure was so excruciating that she had to close her legs together tightly to alleviate the pressure. Every time she looked at this Chloe Roberts her core would pound as if it had its own heart beat and it sent a wave of pleasure coursing through her body.

"Hey, Hermione?" Ron asked looking at his best friend who had suddenly paled and clamped up. "Are you alright?"

"What? Yeah…" Hermione replied, ignoring the look Ginny was giving her as she returned her attention to Albus rather than Chloe. "I'm fine, just feeling a little ill. It's nothing."

Just as Hermione focus was starting to wane, a sudden heated began to permeate her body. The feel of eyes, dark green eyes, watching her from somewhere nearby became too much to bare. She could feel the intensity of the gaze prickling her skin but she adamantly refused to meet it. The battle didn't last for long, of course, as within moments, Hermione glanced towards the stage and where Chloe Roberts could be seen staring at Hermione, her mouth wide open.

'_W-What's going on?'_

That was what both women thought as a rush of pleasure shot through their bodies, Chloe going so far as to rest her joined hands near to her crotch. The new Defence against the Dark Arts Teacher stood rooted to the spot, the words of introduction that were about to leave her mouth gone the moment she gazed at this beautiful creature.

Noticing the direction of Chloe's gaze, Albus discreetly coughed so that Chloe alone could hear him and upon registering the sound the new DA Teacher came back to life. "Eh, um, well my… My name is Chloe Roberts and I look forward to teaching you in one way or another," Shocked by the sudden thought that 'one way or another' brought, Chloe suddenly felt the need to make herself a little more clear. "Of course when I say one way or another I mean in the classroom, obviously. It's not like I… eh, anyway I look forward to teaching you in the years to c… follow. In the years to follow."

All throughout her speech, and even when she took her place at the Teachers table, Chloe could still feel her flushed skin heating her entire body like a furnace. It was embarrassing enough to talk in front of a loud and eager audience but it was another thing to feel aroused for the first time in her entire thirty five year old life. No less to one of her students. She had never felt like this before, and yet the sight of this girl made her want to commit all sort of sins on that undoubtedly luscious body.

'_Wait! What?!'_

'_Are you seriously lusting after one of your students?!'_

'_You have to be kidding me! I don't even know her! Why is this happening to me now?!'_

All through her speech, which lasted no longer than a minute, she had found a way to stumble through it, stuttering here and there while taking every opportunity to make sure the brunette was still watching her. This was truly embarrassing and yet a apart of Chloe felt elated. She had finally realised what had been missing from her life, and it was none other than one of her own students.

One Hermione Granger.

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Author's Note: Hello everyone. It has been a long while hasn't it. I apologise once again for the delay but certain matters in my life had to take precedence and have finally been resolved two months later. I won't bore you with the details just know that in November or December I will be free from all responsibilities which I had previously been tied down by.

Now, onto more positive news; I am hoping to publish the next chapter sometime in late October. The reason being, I need to update my other story first as that wait has been going on for six months now. I have a lot of catching up to do which will not be helped by my attempts to write and self-publish a book of my own. The book will take years but I have already started planning. I know the subject matter but am simply working on ways to present it, i.e. improve my grammar and my writing first etc. I asked one of my former literature teachers to look at my work and she said I have a long way to go; I value her opinion which is why I am going to spend more time writing. If I write at least one book that people feel lukewarm about then I will be satisfied because I don't expect to succeed in this highly competitive business.

Okay, enough depressing talk. I hope you all like the development in this chapter. Especially the introduction of Chloe Roberts which I have been working on for some time, believe me. I hinted at her possible appearance quite a few times by constantly dropping her name, I even spent a while thinking of a suitable way in which Hermione didn't recognise her. Hopefully it worked but I was really clutching at straws by that point. More characters will be introduced soon; including two from Beaubaxton (Hint, hint) but the next chapter will be a lot more… hot and heavy :P No hints but you won't want to miss it.

Well I hope you enjoyed the overall chapter and I would be grateful for any insight or support you can offer. Your support has been overwhelming and this story has been constantly on my mind as a result, concepts and ideas have been evolving because of it and has resulted in a better story I think. Eh, anyway thank you so much for reading and I hope you'll give the next chapter a look in a few weeks.


	9. Chapter 9: Repercussions

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 9: Repercussions

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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Walking out of the Great Hall, the sea of students shepherding her way, Hermione spared one last look towards the teachers. The moment passing in a blur, she failed to acknowledge the contact from passing students or the angry mutters which accompanied said contact. Hermione was too focused, focused on finding one surprisingly elusive individual.

'_Where is she…?'_

'…'

It didn't take long before the brunette's eyes found their intended target because there, right in her field of vision, stood Chloe Roberts in all her refined glory. And what a sight she was to behold. To think that Chloe Roberts, someone Hermione had idolized since she first stepped through the gates of Hogwarts, would be only a few feet away. She even took the time to offer warm smiles to passing students before returning to her conversation with Professor Sprout.

It was too expected of course. She had always known about Chloe's kindness as well as her brilliance. Everyone in the wizarding world knew of Chloe Roberts. She was a hero, a hero to many women who felt oppressed by what many considered a male dominant society. And there was reason for these accusations too. For as many as 3/4 of the Ministry of Magic's work force was male and – even more troubling – only a marginal percent of female workers held high office.

The employment disparity between male and female workers was even more transparent in the popular sport Quidditch. Only a few very gifted female Quidditch players made it into the sport, and there was an underlying reticence from the governing bodies and fans to allow women to participate. Not to mention the difference in pay between female Quidditch players and male ones.

This old stigma still ran true even today. Many pure blooded families considered men to be the dominant gender, believing that women must serve all his needs without question. Only the very old, more traditionalistic families adopted this ideology. Most had abandoned the outdated doctrine before Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had even come into existence. Much like the muggles with their equal rights act, the world of magic had created a similar policy to be included in their community. Positive progress had been made but there were still murmurs of dissension coming from the highest posts in the Ministry.

But even murmurs and whispers of discontent couldn't stop the ascension of one Chloe Roberts. She had made waves in the wizarding world before the age of ten, before she even knew the world of magic. Performing magic without the use of a wand and before the age of ten was hardly noteworthy of course, as many children showed signs of magic early on.

She had been discovered in much the same way other children with magical abilities were discovered – when a sudden burst of magical energy exploded from her being. This was the tell-tale sign that the child, whether muggle or otherwise, possessed the ability to manipulate the world around them with their thoughts alone. In other words, they possessed the ability to perform magic.

As is normally the case with young children who possessed magical traits, their energy would fluctuate uncontrollably and cause unexplainable incidents, lest unchecked. On these occasions Hogwarts or other respective Schools would step in and see that the child is schooled in the art of magic. This was pretty much the norm and had been for centuries, ever since Hogwarts inception, in fact.

The circumstances surroundings Chloe Roberts discovery, however, was an entirely different matter. Unlike other children who fumbled in fear of what their powers could do, Chloe had managed to tame it, control it, all by herself. What's more; she didn't even need to use a wand, all she had to do was look at an object and will it to do what she wanted. And it worked, every single time without fail. She didn't even know the incantations to spells - having never stepped foot in the magical world – and yet things just happened at her bidding.

That was why Chloe Roberts had been revered before she even stepped foot in Hogwarts, before she had even received her letter of admittance. Chloe Roberts was unlike anything they had ever seen before. She was incredible, having already taught herself to master simple and intermediary spells by the time school officials came knocking on her door. Spells that four and fifth years were still struggling with, Chloe had performed with relative ease.

No potential student, muggle or otherwise, had ever accomplished this feat. And it didn't take long before the magical world went into hysteria, claiming that she was the second coming of far more powerful witches and wizards. Expectation had been placed on her shoulders almost immediately, knowledge of her spreading through the community like wild fire.

Of course - with a young pupil this talented – Hogwarts and Beaubaxton quickly became interested. Even Durmstrang, a male only campus, had vied for her acquisition. But for reasons unknown – and reasons that were never shared by Chloe – the young phenomenon chose Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry. She didn't listen to or even consider anyone else.

Of course it was only after she left Hogwarts that she truly lived up to her name. It was impressive enough leaving Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with Outstanding's in almost every subject but it was another feat entirely to leave with a Legendary. Chloe was one of only six people to have achieved this distinction in all of human history, achieving a Legendary in Defence against the Dark Arts no less. No one had achieved it since her and it was believed nobody would, not even Hermione Granger, such was the difficulty of achieving such a grade.

However, as if her passing grades were not impressive enough, it was her work outside of School that set the world alight. Chloe boasted the highest arrest record in the Auror office, the highest kill ratio while out on the field and that was only the tip of the iceberg. One of Chloe's most famous and heroic acts was during the Ministry of Magic's occupation by one Lord Voldermort. She had -with a small group of followers - fought through the entirety of the Ministry of Magic's corrupt officials and retrieved loyal supporters from within their ranks.

She had stepped into enemy territory, a heavily fortified area, and come out unscathed, and, what's more, Chloe had saved influential figures from almost certain death. She had been a hero, an equal in fact to the Great Lord Voldemort. Everyone believed she would be there saviour. That Chloe Roberts would be the one to end Lord Voldemort's reign of terror, some even believed that she was born with this sole purpose in mind.

Unfortunately that simply wasn't the case.

Maybe it was her overconfidence, her belief that her Legendary in Defence against the Dark Arts could prepare her for anything life threw at her. But she wasn't prepared for the onslaught that the Dark Lord had prepared for her. He was like nothing she had ever seen; cunning, methodical and with a limitless array of spells which could only have come from much darker arts then she had been privy to. It was no secret that Chloe would often use the dark arts to her advantage, to aid her course when battles appeared to be going awry. But when she stepped up to face the Dark Lord, Chloe realised very early on that she was completely outmatched.

The Dark Lord remained to this day the only man or woman who had defeated, humiliated and shamed her in a one on one duel. But when all seemed lost, when the Dark Lord had grown tired of torture, she had been saved by one Albus Dumbledore. If it had not been for Albus, Chloe had no doubt that the Dark Lord would have killed her as an example to what happens to any who oppose him.

The loss cost her much. She had finally been recognised by the Dark Lord who did not know who Chloe Roberts even was. The Dark Lord had no idea who she was, and for some reason that knowledge hurt Chloe because she honestly believed she had been a thorn in his side. But she had been wrong; she had barely even been registered by him. The Dark Lord saw her as nothing more than an insignificant threat, someone who wasn't worthy of his time. And Chloe was anything but insignificant, all throughout her life she had been raised on a pedestal and yet the Dark lord ignored her.

Well, months later… Chloe eventually got what she wanted but if she had known the cost, the price she would be forced to pay then she would have fled. She would have remained insignificant to the eyes of Lord Voldemort, avoided him like the plague till the end of the war… but she did not. Chloe's pride had been hurt and as an act of retaliation, she had cut the Dark Lord deep. Chloe had found and arrested the Dark Lord's most trusted lieutenant, Bellatrix LeStrange.

She had finally gone from insignificant to a nuisance in the eyes of Lord Voldemort, and as a result the Dark Lord retaliated in the only way he knew. The results of his retaliation would have disastrous effect on Chloe; causing the young brunette to lose her ability to think logically, making her paranoid and fearful. She even became a danger to herself and her followers as well as the enemy. It was too much to bear and, as a result, Albus Dumbledore deemed Chloe unreliable and was forced to lock her away till the end of the war.

And how did the Dark Lord accomplish Chloe's fall from grace…?

What caused Chloe's insanity…?

Well, it was very simple.

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He targeted everyone that Chloe cared about.

…

The Dark Lord made it his duty to psychologically scar Chloe at every turn; friends she had known left disfigured, Chloe's name written on exposed skin, their bodies lying dead and abused. This was all a power play, the Dark Lord proving his power and dominance over her, leaving her a shell of her former self. The blood of her family soaking through her hands as she clutched at her mauled father and abused mother, screaming in anguish at their unfair treatment and untimely death.

Those had been dark days, both in the sense of the war and in her life. Times she would rather forget. The war was over and there was finally no need for a battle scarred and paranoid hero. She had left the wizarding world for a time, the Daily Prophet jumping to the conclusion that her lack of appearance was an assurance of her death.

But in truth, Chloe wanted to see the world, to see what she had been fighting for. In the end, all she wanted to know was: was the world she had been fighting for worth all the hardship, all the pain and the solitude. It was a simple question, a simple question with a distinctly evasive answer as it would turn out. On her travels, Chloe saw many things in the people she observed; kindness, cruelty, happiness, contempt, love and lust to name but a few.

Everyone so immersed in their own lives that they failed to notice how easily it could have been taken away, everyone focused on their own emotions, their own wants and desires. It was not surprising, of course. Chloe knew how selfish and self-absorbed people could be, but what surprised her the most were the random acts of kindness.

In a little village not far from the Serbian border, where she had temporarily relocated, a young man had offered help and directions without the pretext of… other favours. It was a surprise and quite reassuring to feel kind eyes on her rather than the usual lust filled gaze. This was not all though. An elderly couple even offered her food as she walked past their house, clearly aware that she was famished after a long journey. She refused initially of course but the elderly woman refused to kneel, pressing an assortment of goods into her unoccupied hands. Even the tavern she stayed in was nice, the people of the village, all close and friendly, singing together without any underlying hatred seeping into the comforting atmosphere.

And, to her surprise, she found that all these acts of kindness, these selfless acts, proved one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt. She was not fighting for the world - for everyone - but rather for these moments. She was fighting so that these moments between friends, family and loved ones could continue without the fear of oppression. Law and order was all well and good, even a dictatorship could bring about productivity and prosperity but it couldn't promise something which she believed was far more important.

It was what everyone was looking for, since the day they were born – men, women and even children – they were looking for contentment, satisfaction… and in some cases even love. That was all, and it was enough for her. All the fighting, while not entirely worth it, had been for the survival of these small moments of happiness that were intermingled between the sad and difficult moments in our lives.

Yes, on her travels around the world she had met the usual lustful stare. Yes, Chloe saw the occasional spat between lovers which had always made her feel far less inclined to romantic relationships. But that could not be weighed against the happiness she had found in the last few weeks. And, yet despite all her ponderings, her talk of happiness and kindness – which she understood and desired wholeheartedly – Chloe did not have time for love.

It's not like she outright refused to involve herself in romantic relationships, she just didn't feel it was necessary. She had never been kissed, fondled or even held by anyone. She was still a virgin, even at the age of thirty two, and she had grown tired of people telling her she had wasted her looks and youth by not spreading her legs. Apparently, spreading your legs at the first bat of an eye lash was far more preferable then to wait for someone that gave you reason to open them. She had never found anyone, and she didn't need anyone. Was it not enough to just be happy, contented with life without the need for a significant other to share it with.

No, she didn't need anyone else. She just didn't to find happiness and contentment, that was all she wanted in life.

And it was something she was prepared to fight for, should anyone dare to endanger it.

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"Miss Granger?"

"…"

"Miss Granger?" The voice called again puzzled at the lone girl who stood in the Great Hall, staring at the teachers table.

"…"

"Miss Granger!"

"Huh?" Hermione squealed, tearing her eyes away from the row of tables and to the rather imposing figure that now glared back at her.

"Miss Granger, now that you are back among the living… would you come with me, please." Professor McGonagall said, walking away as soon as she had finished uttering her last words. It seemed her 'please' was less an invitation and more of a demand, not that Hermione would ever refuse a teacher's instructions. So, she followed behind her head of house without question, looking back behind her to get one last look at her childhood hero. Unfortunately, it seemed Miss Chloe Roberts had disappeared along with the rest of the staff under the School's employ.

Feeling a strange pang of disappointment, Hermione turned, prepared to give her full attention to Professor McGonagall. But she was left surprised when she spotted Albus Dumbledore waiting for them at the entrance to the Great Hall. The usual comforting smile adorning his lips as he lounged against the great iron door, completely out of character for the usually proper headmaster.

"Hello, Miss Granger, a pleasure to see you again. I take it you had an… interesting holiday while you were away?"

Unsure how to respond to Albus, given his nature of knowing things he really shouldn't, Hermione remained cautious. He couldn't possibly know what was happening to her? What her mother did to her, could he?

'**HaHAhA! He… Knows…'**

Ignoring the voice, Hermione tried to appear attentive and calm. Hermione knew she could not put anything past the Great Albus Dumbledore but, due to her own sanity, the young brunette attempted to play dumb. Knowing full well that Albus would be able to see through it but fearing what he would say if she did open up, Hermione refused to flinch from his gaze. She trusted Albus, after all, and if he said that this Rose woman was her mother, then she would be forced to accept it. And - despite the overwhelming evidence supporting Rose's claim - that was not something she could handle at the present time.

Pausing for only a moment, Hermione responded. "Yes, it was very interesting but largely uneventful. Mostly reading up on this year's textbooks. So, pretty much like every other year."

"Hmm? That is good to hear." The Headmaster replied, a knowing smile rising to his lips at the game Hermione was trying to play. He couldn't deny her bravado, and she played her part well, but Albus already knew what had been going on.

"Headmaster, if we could proceed," Professor McGonagall interjected, looking at her watch. "I'm needed at a meeting in half an hour and I can't afford to miss it."

Nodding his head, Albus motioned for Hermione to follow, and took the lead. Professor McGonagall walked alongside him, muttering something that Hermione couldn't hear despite the silence that filled the halls. Fearing the worst Hermione looked down at her feet, this was the last things she wanted to deal with on her arrival to Hogwarts. She was so stupid, so very, very stupid.

To think she could slip this passed the Great Albus Dumbledore, of course he would know about her affliction. Nothing that happened inside these walls could happen without even an inkling of suspicion from the Headmaster. Why would her condition be any different? She should have just messaged him about her condition, like she had attempted to do several times in the last few weeks before anxiety fought through her own sensibility.

This wasn't good… To hide one's affliction, one that could affect the livelihood and safety of everyone in the castle, was against the law. A law that had been created by all Ministry's from around the world, not just the one in Britain. She knew this, Hermione had read about it many times in Hogwarts: A History, and yet she had stayed silent.

So, what would the punishment be?

Detention? No, to minor for what she had attempted.

Expulsion? N-No, surely not. She hadn't harmed anyone. No one had complained or even confronted her about this. Surely this wouldn't result in her expulsion, surely she wouldn't be memory wiped like many magical creatures had been in the past. No, that couldn't happen. What about Harry, Ron and… and Ginny. She couldn't forget about her friends, the people who had given her life meaning.

The more she thought about her condition; the fact that she had an ability to manipulate women to do whatever she desired, to bed in secret whoever she wanted, to endanger anyone who consummated her affections. The more she realised… how foolish she had been. She was a danger, not only to the student body but the staff as well. She had an inherent ability to control the whims of women regardless of age or position. If Hermione so desired she could force a teacher to give her the answers to any examination she wished, or indoctrinate a first year to sleep with her and keep it a secret. How had she not realised this before. She was not at risk of expulsion, but at risk of being memory wiped… the most serious sentence afforded to creatures like her.

Was this it…?

Was she going to be affronted by Auror's the moment she stepped around this corner?

She had read all the books she could find concerning magical creatures since discovering her lineage; Hermione knew what happened to them once they were found hiding in human settlements. The fear that a magical creature might find themselves at a seat of power in the Daily Prophet, Hogwarts School or even the Ministry of Magic was why these punishments were so severe. It was believed that succubae could manipulate their way to the top and in time bring about the end of human occupancy. It was unlikely but the possibility still existed and, as a means to scare away any attempts of over throwing the government, extreme measures were deployed. In this case… memory wiping.

You would remember nothing; your memory's being leeched from a being closely akin to a dementor who would extract every single memory no matter how insignificant. This would all happen in the confines of Lucia, a prison where all magical creatures are sent to, specially made so no magical creature could escape, and none had so far.

Once the leeching had been complete, the creatures known only as the soul eaters would release you back into the world. You would wander around aimlessly, maybe to die or maybe to live out your life being touched by soiled hands. To the Ministry of Magic it did not matter to them. They cared little for creatures who looked to harm them, even going so far as to allow criminals to congregate below the prison.

This allowed criminals and traffickers to wait for the chance to get their hands on any female creature they found moderately attractive. They would either be sold into prostitution or used as personal sex slaves. It was all very hush, hush and had caused significant tension between the Ministry and the clans in question. But word still spread about these deals and the corruption that was rooted deep within the Ministry of Magic.

Lucia was less a prison and more a medical facility, but many still preferred it to the confines of Azkaban.

There was a noticeable disparity between the treatment of human captives and magical ones. For instance, magical creatures would always be released after they had been sucked dry but humans remained confined and tormented. Humans would also be fed and have appropriate bedding befitting of their crimes but there were no such accommodations for but a small few in Lucia. Of course, this only applied to the most serious of cases, to the few who committed crimes worthy of staying in Lucia's decaying hands.

Which prison was worse was up to the thinker but in Hermione's eyes the fear of being leeched of her memory's and used for her body was far worse than any human confinement. Which was why surely… surely Albus wouldn't expose her to that? M-McGonagall would protect her in any case, wouldn't she? This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be happening…

"You're mother and father are healthy, I take it?"

"Huh? M-My mother?" Hermione stuttered, a knot forming in her stomach.

"Yes, and your father, of course. Are they both well?" The Headmaster asked, ascending the stairs with premature ease, as if the moving staircase didn't dare refuse him passage.

"Y-Yes, they're fine," Hermione muttered, re-composing herself with a steadying breath. "They went back to work last week and seemed fine."

Smiling, Albus half-turned towards her as he continued along the stair case. "They work as dentists, don't they? A most fascinating job if I say so myself."

"Y-Yeah…" Hermione said, filling in the awkward pause that accompanied Albus's speech.

Having dropped the conversation for now, Albus stepped through a familiar looking door, causing Hermione to pause in confusion. Noticing the lack of footsteps behind them, Professor McGonagall turned.

"Miss Granger, is there a problem?" The professor asked kindly, looking at Hermione expectantly.

Looking from Professor McGonagall to Albus, who had just returned through the opened door, Hermione blinked several times. Where the hell were they going?

"Um, I thought we were going to the Headmaster's office?"

Looking rather stern, Professor McGonagall placed her hands on her hips as she replied. "And when did we ever say that?"

"I-I just… Why are we going towards the Gryffindor common room? A-Are you…" Hermione frowned, fear finally rising as her sabotaged mind connected two questionable points.

Before her worries had time to fester, however, Albus quickly stepped in. His laughter punctuating the tense silence as both sets of eyes turned towards him.

"Oh My! I do fear that Miss Granger believes we are about to exclude her." Albus remarks, turning to Professor McGonagall whose eye brows shot up upon utterance.

"What!? No, Miss Granger… We didn't come here to publically exclude you."

However, noticing the term Professor McGonagall had used, Hermione blanched, her hands clenched together. "But you are here to exclude me, aren't you. Why else would you be taking me to my dorm?"

Stepping closer to Hermione, a hand outstretched, Professor McGonagall was halted by a hand resting against her bicep. Albus gently tugged her away and faced Hermione. "No Miss Granger. We are not here to exclude you, either publically or discreetly."

"T-Then why are you taking me here? Why else would you lead me here other than to collect my things?"

Tucking his arms together, Albus straightened his posture to its fullest extent. The familiar twinkle in his eye that told Hermione he was up to no good - sending red flags off in her mind. "And, why, pray tell, would I want to exclude you, Miss Granger? Have you done something that would offend me?"

"W-What? I… I…"

"You seem convinced that we are here to exclude you when all we have done is walk you to your dorm. Perhaps I wish to talk? Maybe, I came to inform you of your recent test scores. Why do you jump to the conclusion that I am here to exclude you?"

Looking from Minerva to Albus and back again, Hermione nervously rubbed her hands together, imploring Albus not to ask any more questions. But, realising that the old man would not yield, Hermione sighed. They were right; she was behaving in a manner which was very unlike her, questionable at best. And, Hermione couldn't escape this feeling that Albus knew more than he let on. So, giving up pretences Hermione vocalised her inner thoughts.

"You know, don't you?"

"Know what, Miss Granger?" Albus asked; his expression remaining stoic in the face of one of his most determined students.

"Please, Headmaster. Just tell me, do you know about my… about my…"

However, to Hermione's surprise, Professor McGonagall stepped in, extracting the young brunette from a potentially difficult situation. "Albus, this is not what we agreed upon. We both have business to attend to later, and if we are to see our duties through then we must conclude our business here."

Looking between Albus and Minerva, once again, her head lolling from side to side, Hermione was surprised to see the old man nodding his assent, looking slightly apologetic. "You're quite, right, of course. My apologies Miss Granger, forgive this old man and his ponderings. Now, if you will, let us proceed."

Then, turning away from present company, Albus walked to the Fat Lady and without utterance – or need of a password - opened the door. Upon the door's opening a chorus of load noise entered the hallway, so loud that Professor McGonagall even groaned into her hand. This was all quite understandable though as the noise was bordering on animalistic, like a wild party was being held and the family were back to see the atrocity in full swing.

"If you would follow me, please." Albus instructed, walking through the door of the Fat Lady.

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Walking into the throng of students the noise died down almost immediately – students stopping all movement upon seeing Albus Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall in their common room. All previous activity stopped, whether acceptable or not, and Hermione could only stare at the carnage that had taken place before her. No sound had accompanied their entrance which was surprising considering there had been an ungodly amount of noise coming from the common room earlier. She could even remember the shouting and offense language that had been easily discernible amongst the raised voices.

And yet, now, the entire room stared at them open mouthed, even Harry and Ron looked surprised and turned to face each other once they had located Hermione standing behind them. For whatever reason Hermione could not find Ginny among the throng of people, although why she had been actively looking for her, Hermione could not say. And, furthermore, why paper aeroplanes appeared littered along the floor and on the walls was anyone's guess.

Clearing his throat, resulting in several students gasping in shock, Albus looked upon the scene in front of him. "I would advise you all to clean this up before we have concluded a small matter with Miss Granger. While I do not mind a little mess once in a while, I can assure you that your Head of House, Professor McGonagall, and house elf, mind it very much. Now, quickly, you have five minutes."

And, with that, the student body feverishly went about cleaning the common room, giving both Albus and Minerva a wide berth as they proceeded. Hermione couldn't help but laugh quietly as she watched the Gryffindor students, both young and old, scatter like insects as Albus and Minerva approached. Hermione could only liken it to Moses parting the sea, a bizarre image but one that held weight given the situation.

Her laugh subsided however when she remembered one of Albus's last words, 'house elf', Hermione pondered for a moment. Surely there wasn't just one house elf that was left to clean the entire common room. Surely they worked in teams, easing the burden that would have come from such a physical job. Despite her situation, and the seriousness of it, Hermione couldn't help but ask, for the sake of the elves, one last thing.

"Headmaster?"

"Yes?" Albus replied, stopping his motion to turn towards Hermione.

"What did you mean by 'house elf'?"

Sighing, Professor McGonagall, who had been looking at her watch, turned to face Hermione. "You know the School employ's house elves, Miss Granger. They are properly looked after, clothed and catered to. So, can we please get on with this meeting?"

"I'm sorry, Professor. This will only take a second, but I have to know. Does only one house elf work in each room of the Castle?"

Albus, smiling in acknowledgement towards Minerva who looked far less than impressed, decided to answer the young brunette honestly. "Yes. One house elf works in each room of the Castle, except for the Hall and places which are equally as big. Why do you ask, Miss Granger?"

"Well," Hermione scoffed, finding it hard to believe that Professor McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore couldn't see a fault in their method. After all this was clearly unfair treatment and could not be overlooked regardless of her own situation, this had to be dealt with immediately. "How is that fair? House elves work enough as it is, doing work that is far less than they deserve. And now I hear that they are forced to clean an entire room without any help at all. Headmaster, surely you can tell this is wrong."

Scratching his chin, absentmindedly watching the Gryffindor students cleaning the detritus around him, Albus spoke. "Miss Granger, please, understand that we are not treating the house elves unfavourably. There work load was agreed upon between myself and all of the house elves that we currently have under our employ. I agreed to their terms, and one of those terms was that they work alone, whenever possible."

Intrigued, Hermione stood up straighter. "But, why? Why would they wish to work alone? Wouldn't they prefer to work together, ease the burden, so to speak?"

"Well, I asked that," Albus smiled, laughing in understanding. "But they were adamant. You see, Miss Granger, elves are very territorial. They don't like it when someone tries to help them; they believe it their duty to carry out the task alone. It was something I wondered myself but they explained the situation and I have no wishes to change our agreement."

Nodding her head reluctantly, Hermione followed the Headmaster, unaware of where she was going as she shared a silent stare with Harry and Ron. Hermione registered the confused looks and responded in kind, raising her shoulders in a shrug. Had the young brunette not turned around at that moment she would have walked straight into Professor McGonagall, something that she did not wish to do at the present time.

Confused, as they were still standing in the centre of the common room, Hermione leaned around them and found herself staring into the blazing embers of the fireplace. The silence and interest that seemed to ebb from behind made Hermione realise the eyes that were fixed on her, the tension in the room palpable. Turning around to look behind her, Hermione saw Harry Potter wiping Ronald's hair with a filthy brush, which, even more amazingly, went unnoticed by Ron. Oh, how the boys could be such imbeciles and yet so loveable all at the same time.

However, when Hermione turned around, she did not expect to see Albus looking directly at her, Professor McGonagall standing slightly behind him ushering her students to continue working. "Miss Granger, do you trust me?"

"W-What? Y-Yes… Of course I do."

Smiling appreciatively, Albus nodded to himself and walked towards the fireplace. Hermione watched him, all eyes trained on what the old wizard was about to do. To Hermione's surprise, Albus did nothing remarkable, nothing even magical; he simply kneeled in front of the fireplace. Confused, Hermione raised her eyebrow, and her curiosity only heightened when Albus motioned for her to follow. So, without question, Hermione knelt beside him, fully aware that everyone in the room was watching them with increased interest. Nobody was pretending to clean anymore and it seemed Professor McGonagall had given up in her attempts get the students focused on their task. Hermione, turning towards Albus, placed her hands on her knees waiting for whatever instructions would come next.

"Now," Albus said, sighing before he spoke again, "Place your hands on the coal in the fireplace."

"W-What?" Hermione ushered, followed by several utterance from students who couldn't control themselves.

"Ashley, Sarah, Kenneth, Drew and Finnegan, in my office now. I do not expect that kind of language from my students." Hermione heard Professor McGonagall shout in her periphery, her voice loud and breaking any silence that had previously occupied the room.

"You said you trusted me, Miss Granger. Now do you or don't you?"

Puzzled and fearful that this was the humiliation that she had been promised would never happen, Hermione dug her hands in to the fire, a short squeal falling from her lips. But nothing happened; there was no pain, only the sound of startled students screaming behind her. Taking a few seconds, Hermione opened her eyes and watched the flames engulf her hands and the collar of her School jumper. And yet there was no pain, the flames licked harmlessly at her finger tips and School jumper, no damage to speak of, instead a strange tingling sensation.

But then, without even a hint of warning, the entire fireplace retreated from her. Shocked by what was happening, Hermione watched as the fire extinguished itself and the fireplace rotated upon its axis. Appearing unperturbed by this Albus Dumbledore walked up to the mirror above and rested his palm on it, flames leaving his fingertips and spreading to all corners of the mirror.

Seeing Hermione's questioning eyes, Albus answered. "The mirror needs my signature of approval or you wouldn't be able to come and go as you, please."

And, just as Hermione was about to ask what the entire room - minus Professor McGonagall - was thinking, the mirror slid down towards the floor and was replaced by a revolving stair at its base. Then, after a few seconds, the fireplace itself split in half and the stairs moved to rest against the floor directly in front of Albus's feet. And, this all happened in a matter of seconds, barely enough time for even the Great Hermione Granger to figure out what was going on.

"Shall we?" Albus asked, motioning for Hermione to take the lead.

"W-Where are we going?"

Taking the first step, Hermione turned to look at Albus and Professor McGonagall who were waiting behind her. Neither answered, instead motioning for Hermione to continue walking. Taking the steps one at a time, Hermione's anxiety was overcome by curiosity. What was this place? Why had it never been mentioned in Hogwarts: A History.

When Hermione finally reached the lone door in the small hallway, after a journey that lasted five minutes of walking, Hermione froze. Finally having enough of this situation, Hermione once again turned towards Albus. "Headmaster, please. What's going on?"

Albus and Minerva said nothing, simply looking at Hermione with unreadable expressions.

"Why have you been so secretive about this when you were prepared to walk me up here in front of everyone? W-What am I even doing here? This isn't fair Headmaster, and I'm tired of being left in the dark. So, please, tell me… Why did you lead me here?"

The silence that filled the hallway after those last utterances became uncomfortable even for Minerva, surprised by Hermione's paranoia and bravado. Albus Dumbledore, meanwhile, simply nodded his head and moved towards the closed door, his hand resting on the knob.

"Well Miss Granger, I think it's time I explained why I led you up here, don't you agree?"

Grated by this response, Hermione replied. "Yes."

"Indeed. So, Miss Granger," He said opening the door fully, causing Hermione's mouth to fall to the floor at the sight which greeted her…

…

"I welcome you to your new quarters."

…

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Author's Notes:

Hello again ladies and gentlemen, I am back and I am glad to say here to stay. I have finally finished my course after a hectic couple of months; I almost didn't finish my assignments and observations which is the reason for my inactivity of late. I won't bore you with the details but I am back for good now, and all the time I spent writing my dissertations and assignments will not be put towards writing my Fan Fic stories.

I would also like to apologise for saying that this chapter would have smut, it originally was supposed to but, due to the length, I had to cut the chapter down into three parts. The smut chapter will be chapter 11, I believe, if you're interested in that kind of thing, of course. This also means that the introduction of the Beaubaxton characters will be delayed by two chapters also, but please don't worry; many of you have guessed the two students and rest assured they will both feature heavily in this story. Other characters will also be introduced as Hermione potential partner but I won't introduce them for a little while, they're interesting, however. At least in my opinion.

Also, please suggest any character you like to be included in this love story. One character has already been included, who I never intended to include, but popular demand and my own intrigue made it fit into the story. I'll give you a clue, by the way, 'hair polyjuice' I wonder how many of you will figure it out :P

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter which was full of exposition and information that will be important later on. Especially Lucia, please remember that name, if you remember nothing else from this chapter. Wish you all the best guys and gals have a happy belated Christmas and a wonderful new year :D Now, excuse me while I catch up on Doctor Who, my favourite actor Peter Capaldi is in it and I somehow managed to miss it yesterday :P

The next Chapter will be out soon, in a week or two I imagine. I hope you look forward to it.

P.S. I am on the look out for a new Beta Reader, as I need help getting back into the writing groove. This chapter doesn't seem right to me, but I can't put my finger on why. I'm hoping for a Beta Reader who can help improve writing if at all possible, showing me where I go wrong and being as critical as they deem necessary.

P.S.2 I am planning to self publish a book in the near future, so if you are interested in hearing about it, please feel free to contact me. I'll give you information on its progress etc... although the book is nowhere near finished yet, I can give the name I'm using when I release the book, so that you can find it when I do finally release it.


	10. C9 P2: New Quarters and a Familiar Guest

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 9 Part 2: New Quarters and a Familiar Guest

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

**Author's Note: There is an important Author's Note at the end of this chapter. It concerns this possibility of changes to this story. Please, have a look at it after reading the chapter because the decision will be yours. For now though please enjoy the chapter. **

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"Miss Granger?" Minerva questioned, the young girl having remained rooted to the entrance of her new quarters.

Hermione, meanwhile, failed to register her professor's words as she simply stared at the room that lay before her. And, who could blame her? The room's interior was simply magnificent. It held everything that the young brunette could have ever wanted in one room. Almost as if it had been created by Hermione's own personal specifications.

The young brunette's attention shifted all around the room, taking in every corner, every crevice with a look of amazement.

This room was to be her new quarters?

What had she done to deserve such an incredible gift?

Hermione's gaze wondered to the assortment of books that lined the walls of the room. In fact, there were no visible walls in this room. The perimeter had, instead, been filled with bookcases all around. The bookcases stacked high, so that they connected to the ceiling.

Her gaze then fell on the window that lay between two bookcases on the opposite side of the room. Edging further into the room, Hermione spotted the lake nestled between the Astronomy Tower and Clock tower. The sight took her breath away. Was this the sight she would be welcomed to every morning?

The feeling of heat suddenly drew her attention away from the window. Hermione turned to locate its source and was surprised to see a small fireplace nestled into one of the bookcases. How the books were not set alight, Hermione had no idea. But the flame continued to brush against the wooden surface of the bookcase, and yet nothing happened. Magic was truly incredible, was it not?

Looking down at her feet, Hermione noticed a small roundtable at the room's centre, the legs of the table pressing against the rug. The rug brought a smile to her face when she noticed the Gryffindor symbol displayed at its centre.

This room was absolutely incredible and like nothing she could have ever imagined. It was her Perfect room. The one she had imagined several years ago suddenly brought to life. How was this possible?

However, before Hermione could lose herself in the room's splendour, Albus stepped forward. "Do you approve of your new quarters, Miss Granger?"

Smiling at the Headmaster, Hermione nodded. "Yes! I mean, this room is wonderful. Thank you so much."

"Not at all," Albus said, waving away her thanks good naturedly. "This room has been without an occupant for too long. I believed it was time someone made use of it. Who better than the brightest witch of her age?"

Hermione flushed at the compliment. The nickname that had been bestowed upon her had always made her uncomfortable. At least it was better than the alternative; Mudblood.

"Why was this room never used? It seems like… such a waste."

"Because I didn't believe it necessary to use at the time. Until now."

Surprised by this, Hermione looked to Professor McGonagall for further elaboration, but none seemed forthcoming. "But why have I never heard of a hidden room in Gryffindor tower? Hogwarts; A History never mentioned a secret room."

Laughing warmly, Albus leaned against the nearest bookshelf and regarded the young Gryffindor for a moment. "We all have our secrets, Miss Granger. This castle more than most. I doubt this room would have made itself known to all. Only to those that it considers worthy of its use. It seems this room picked you."

"Me? Why me?"

Pondering this Albus raised a hand to his chin, rubbing it gently between his fingers. "I do not know. I had hoped to convince the room to allow Harry to stay here, in the event that Lord Voldemort's followers had managed to infiltrate our teaching body. But the room refused, it only showed a picture of you."

"Of me?"

"Yes," Albus stated, pacing towards the lone window in the room and gazing out. "It was adamant. So, I decided to cater to its wishes. But have no fear, Miss Granger. The room was created to protect and shelter its occupants, not harm them. I can assure you of that."

His words helped assure the young Gryffindor, but Hermione couldn't help but feel a new sense of anxiety about the eagerness of this room. Why did it want her as a guest? Apart from her brains, and, most recently her heritage, Hermione believed herself unremarkable. Why would the room go to such lengths – denying a man as powerful as Albus Dumbledore – simply so she could live here?

As Hermione began to mull this over she was momentarily distracted by the actions of her Headmaster. The man could be seen staring up at the ceiling of the room, a look of wonder etched on his face.

"Ahh," He sighed. "I had forgotten about the wonders of this room."

Following the man's gaze, Hermione looked up and in that moment she finally understood her Headmaster's words. Above her, before her very eyes, the ceiling was changing. It was almost identical to the ceiling that could be found in the Great Hall. Except this one showed calming sways of colour, no harsh showers or lightning storms to speak of. The creamy texture morphed into a pleasant yellow, like the mixing of paint in a small tin. It did this over and over again, soft colours changing every few seconds.

"What is it doing?" Hermione asked.

"The ceiling seems undecided about what colour it should be. This problem should sort itself out once you have decided on a colour."

Puzzled by this, Hermione asked. "C-Can this room read my mind?"

The colours presented to her were all her favourites. How else could this room know that unless it learned it through her mind? She had never made mention of her favourite colours in Hogwarts let alone this room that she had only entered as of this moment.

"It has that ability, yes. I suspect the room is trying to impress you. It does not mean to be intrusive but it has not had a guest worthy of its use for a very long time."

"How do you know this, sir?"

Smiling, Albus looked at Hermione. "Because I was the last person to use this room."

Stunned into silence by this admission, Hermione could only gawk at her Headmaster who seemed to take the attention in stride. Hermione couldn't believe it. She was going to use the quarters that had previously been used by, arguably, the most powerful wizard to have ever lived. This room had picked Albus to be its occupant many years ago. And, now… Now it had chosen… Hermione?

"I assure you," Albus said, unaware that Hermione was still in a state of utter shock. "This ceiling will be even more breath-taking when you fall down to sleep."

"W-Why?"

"Because at night this ceiling will become a sea of stars. It will resemble the night sky and comfort you when you sleep. Believe me, Miss Granger… There is nothing quite like it."

Hermione, still coming to terms with the room's peculiar tendencies, could no longer remain quite. Something about this offer seemed too… perfect. There had to be some catch. She wouldn't have been permitted entry to this room unless there was good reason. Albus did not give in so easily. Despite what this room wanted, Albus would have pushed until he got things his way. So why did he conceded defeat so easily?

"Sir, can I be honest with you?"

Noticing a hint of anxiety in her voice, Albus said. "Of course, Miss Granger. I would hope for nothing less."

"Why have I been handed this room so freely? You said you wanted Harry to use it but… but why did you decide against that? I don't understand."

Breathing in deeply, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. She had been quite for quite a while now, what better time to speak then now.

"I will be frank with you, Miss Granger. We are not giving you this room entirely freely."

"Okay?" Hermione replied, sensing Minerva's unease.

"We were hoping you would take up a new position in Gryffindor. One that is a first of its kind."

"And… What would this position be?"

Glancing towards Albus, Minerva took another deep breath and turned back to Hermione.

"We would like you to be the personal consultant to our new Head Girl this year," Minerva said, ignoring the wide stare and open mouth that seemed to be Hermione's response to this situation. She was doing that a lot today, Minerva noted. "You would, in essence, become the Deputy Head Girl of Gryffindor."

"The Deputy Head Girl?"

"Yes, that would be your official title."

Hermione blinked again and again, trying to process the information that had just been presented to her. She, a fifth year, would be the understudy to Gryffindor's Head Girl? Was that even allowed? Surely there were rules against this kind of thing. I mean, Albus was fairly lax on the School rules but even this was a bit much.

Was that the reason behind Albus giving her this room?

Was this room supposed to act as a sweetener?

Minerva, sensing Hermione's line of thinking, quickly piped up. "Please, don't misunderstand, Miss Granger. This room will remain yours even if you decline my offer. I am not here to pressure you. But we believe it would be in your best interest to consider this offer seriously. You are highly valued by both myself and the Headmaster. We believe you are more than up to this task."

"Minerva is correct," Albus continued. "This room and our offer are unrelated. This is a completely different matter. These quarters are yours until the day you leave Hogwarts. Whether you accept Minerva's offer is up to you, but please understand that we are not trying to coerce you."

Mulling over this new piece of information, Hermione suddenly remembered an undiscussed piece of information. The Head Girl! Had the Head Girl agreed to this? Why would she agree to such a request? After all those years of working to receive this position, why would the Head Girl suddenly accept a share of power?

Hermione considered this for a time, her eyes passing over the room once again. She spotted her clothes hanging from the lone wardrobe in the corner of the room, seemingly placed there before her arrival. The sound of Crookshanks purring into the duvet cover that rested on her bed. This was all quite overwhelming. She needed to understand her place in all this. How everything would work before she made any decisions concerning Minerva's offer.

"Why have I been named Deputy Head Girl when there had been no need for the position before? And why did you choose me?"

Straightening up, Minerva walked towards Hermione, standing at an arm's length as she spoke. "We believed a change was needed this year. And, when Albus asked of my plans I suggested the position. I believe we put too much pressure on the Head Girl or Head Boy, too much expectation. So, I believe it necessary for them to be supported. Share the burden, so to speak."

"And is the Head Girl okay with this? Did she agree to my position?"

"Yes," Minerva replied. "But under the condition that the final word on School development and improvement comes from her."

Sighing at this piece of news – as it had not been completely unexpected – Hermione folded her arms against her chest. She didn't like the idea of going through someone to implement important changes. What if they disagreed with her proposals? This would be a complete waste of her time if she did not have certain freedoms afforded to her.

This would need to be discussed with the Head Girl. She could not work under these conditions.

"Is it possible to talk with the Head Girl about this? I don't really feel comfortable with that arrangement."

To Hermione's surprise, however, Minerva glanced at Albus nervously and seemed to be asking him something which Hermione could not discern. Albus shook his head, dismissing whatever Minerva was attempting to get across. What was going on between the two of them? Why did Minerva look so doubtful?

Turning back to Hermione, Minerva said. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait until tomorrow to meet her. She… has been feeling a little under the weather as of late."

"'Under the weather?' Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Minerva said, far too quickly for Hermione's liking. "She should come back to School in a few weeks."

"Who is the Head Girl by the way?"

"…"

Uneasy silenced fell upon the room at Hermione's utterance. Minerva nervously playing with her fingers as she looked towards Albus once more. Sensing that his Professor was going to tell Hermione one way or another, Albus nodded in acquiesce. What was the point of hiding it from her really? She would find out in a few weeks anyway.

"Anna…" Professor McGonagall muttered before standing up straighter, a new look of confidence in her expression. "Anna Diggory."

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

"Anna! Cedric's sister?!" Hermione piped up, disbelief washing over her at the mention of the girl's name.

"The very same."

Looking between Albus and Minerva in bewilderment, Hermione shook her head scepticism. Anna! Anna Diggory! Cedric's sister had been appointed Head Girl? What were they playing at?

"So… Cedric's… Cedric's sister is the Head Girl of Gryffindor?! After everything that's happened…"

Looking at the girl with her familiar stone gaze, Minerva rested a hand against her shoulder. Praying to the god's that Hermione would understand their decision. They needed Hermione to be on board after all.

"I know, Miss Granger. This was far from an easy decision but I believe it was necessary none the less. I can see you both benefiting greatly from this partnership. And, I believe she will benefit greatly from your support and the new responsibility that she had been tasked with. It might even help her come to terms with Cedric's death."

"Or it could break her."

Anna. How could Anna, who had held her own brother's lifeless body, be expected to take up the role of Head Girl?

Hermione didn't know Anna very well, bar a few chance meetings in the common room, but Anna had always seemed like a lovely person. Kind hearted and gentle to all of those around her. She had been close with Cedric despite belonging in different Houses, something which was not always the case as Sirius could attest to. Then all of that, her happiness and support, had been ripped from her.

Anna had always seemed frail and fragile before Cedric's death and Hermione could only imagine how she was now. Would she even socialise with her friends anymore? Would she hide from Hermione when she attempted to comfort or even talk to her? She didn't know. This offer was starting to look less and less appealing, and yet Hermione already knew she was going to take it up.

Why, you may ask?

The answer was simple; she had always liked Anna. They had never spoken at great length or even spent much time together but Hermione knew that Anna was worth helping. She couldn't just leave Anna alone, there was something about her that made Hermione's protective instincts rear up.

'**HeHeHeHe…'**

…

"Time will tell," McGonagall said, snapping Hermione's attention away from the voice inside her. "I have faith in her. More faith than you it would see."

Hermione lowered her head at this. She never liked to disappoint her teachers, especially her favourite Professor McGonagall, but she couldn't but feel like she was wrong. Anna had just lost her brother and the likelihood that she could get herself together must have been small. Not to mention the added pressure of leadership that was right around the corner.

"Miss Granger, Anna was always going to be Head Girl, regardless of the events that came to pass. Anna needs this distraction… she's not so unlike you. She is always throwing herself into her work. Believing that she can one day change the world for the better."

"… I know… but still…"

"I understand, Miss Granger," Minerva said softly, squeezing her shoulder in comfort. "I do this at great risk but I assure you; I have judged the task and I believe that she is more than up to it. And, if things become difficult, I will be there to support her. As will you… I am sure."

"Of course," Hermione stated, not even considering any other options. "Is that why you set us up?"

"Of course not," Minerva piped up, offended by the implication. "I believe you are both equally suited to this task and will prosper greatly from it. I have never found two students more suited to working together. I will not pretend that it won't be difficult, however. Anna is very strong willed, as are you, but I know that you will both strive to do what is best for Gryffindor."

…

"I understand. I accept your offer. I only hope my best is good enough.

"We expect no less," Albus interjected, smiling at the brunette. "Now, I'm afraid we must leave. It has been a privilege as always to catch up with you but we must now see our way out. Feel free to look around new surroundings. I am sure you will find something new with each passing day. Whatever you require will be catered for."

And with that Albus left the room, descending the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room. Minerva, meanwhile, looked back at Hermione and couldn't help but feel a wave of admiration was over her. She never doubted Hermione for even one second. No matter what… Hermione would always pull through for her. She really was something special…

At this thought Minerva instinctively lowered her hands to Hermione's flushed cheeks and, despite the brunette's look of alarm, she pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Hermione's breath hitched at the sensation, the heat in her belly becoming prominent as she felt Minerva's lips remain on her forehead.

Suddenly realising what she was doing, Minerva pulled away from Hermione and staggered back. Her eyes remained on the floor, an expression of horror coming over her. "I-I'm sorry, Hermio… Miss Granger. I-I shall take my leave."

And with that Minerva left the room at pace, not caring for how unseemly she might have appeared. For she had just kissed her student, not romantically, or on the lips, but a new feeling was starting to rise in the pit of her stomach.

What was this feeling…?

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

An Hour later…

Hermione had finally come to terms with Professor McGonagall's moment of affection. It had startled her at first, and sent a fire in her belly the likes she had felt for Pansy and Ginny, but Hermione knew it was only a friendly kiss. It wasn't like Minerva had kissed her on the lips. If she had then, well, Hermione would have had to consider a number of things. But it had been on the forehead, a harmless kiss which had been misappropriated because of her inexperience of such things.

Minerva must have been under so much pressure and, when Hermione had finally accepted the offer, she simply kissed her out of relief. That was it. There was nothing more to it. I-It wasn't like she liked the kiss. It didn't send her heart racing or her sex pulsing. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about.

'_Damn…'_

'_I don't even sound convincing in my head…'_

Attempting to leave this topic behind, Hermione began to walk around her new room. Her attention immediately grabbed by the library of works that surrounded her. There were so many tomes and volumes to be found here in this place, many that weren't even available in the main School library. She could already tell that she was going to like it here. The place was exactly what she needed; seclusion, peace of mind and full to the brim with knowledge.

… Almost as if the room had been personally tailored to fit her whims.

"'Whatever you require will be catered for?'" Hermione pondered, smiling to herself as she closed her eyes and whispered.

"I need a glass of water."

And then, as she opened her eyes, a glass of water appeared beside her table.

So it was true then, Hermione pondered. There was more than one room of requirement. Now she understood what Albus had meant upon his departure. It was thinly veiled, of course, but it had set the cogs in her head immediately upon utterance. Nothing Albus said was without purpose, and rarely did he reveal something that wasn't woven in a riddle.

However, as Hermione reached for the glass of water, she stopped mid-way as her ears picked up a faint sound nearby.

"H…ne…"

It was a voice, it held a soft, whispery quality to it but she could hear it none the less. Moving away from the bookshelf, Hermione stepped further into the room to locate the sound.

"Hermione? Are… there? Can you… hear me?"

Turning her head towards the sound Hermione noticed the light emanating from the fireplace. The colour had suddenly changed, the flames were purple now. Small sparks continued to lick at the bookshelf but once again no damage could be seen.

"Hermione?"

"G-Ginny?" Hermione exclaimed, recognising the face that peered at her through the flames. "H-How are you doing this?"

Scoffing, Ginny gave Hermione a look that sent butterflies squirming in her chest. Oh, no. Not this again.

"By magic! Duh! You know for someone so smart you do have a habit of stumbling on the basics, don't yah?" Ginny teased.

"You know that's not what I meant," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes at Ginny's increasing giggles. "I just… how did you know how to contact me?"

However, remembering Ginny's last omission, Hermione suddenly piped up. Her cheeks growing red. "And… And I do not stumble on the basics."

Just the suggestion was scandalous to Hermione. Ginny didn't seem to mind however and simply offered a smug smile in reply.

"Ginny?!"

"What?" Ginny exclaimed, holding her hands in surrender. "You do. You're almost as bad as Ron. Alright, maybe not that bad, but still not good."

"Ginny? Answer my question, please.

…

"Okay," Ginny sighed, a cheeky smile lightening Hermione's mood. "Professor McGonagall showed us how to contact you…"

'_Don't react to her name…'_

'_Keep it cool...'_

"… We have to communicate through this… this… You know what, I don't even know this is?" Ginny wondered, suddenly looking at something with increasing scepticism.

"It's a fireplace!" Harry shouted, clearly far away.

"Oh, right, what he said. We have to communicate through this…?" Ginny looked puzzled for a moment and then sighed before turning around and away from Hermione. "Harry! What was it called again?"

"It's called a goddamn fireplace, baby sis," Fred called, Ginny features souring almost instantly. "We have one in our house, if you didn't notice."

"Alright, keep your knickers on,"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at Ginny's childish response. She looked so adorable with that little pout. It suddenly started to grow hot, Hermione thought, and it had nothing to do with the fire she was kneeling next to. It also didn't help that Ginny was biting her lip, a nervous habit that Hermione never wanted to see rid of.

"Well," Ginny continued. "Apparently we can't enter without your approval. So, I have to stand here and talk to this fireplace just so I can see my best friend."

"Yeah, I know…" Hermione said, becoming distracted when she overheard the voices of Fred and George. Ginny seemed to hear them too as she peered to her side, her lips pursing as she listened.

'_Ginny don't do that…'_

'_I won't be responsible for my actions if your purse your lips like that…'_

"…"

"And she says Hermione stumbles on the basics. How can you forget what a fireplace is?"

"I don't know, George. I really don't. After we went through all the effort of raising her, she turns around and forgets what a fireplace is."

At this utterance Ginny turns to Hermione with a look of exasperation. Her looks turns to horror when she sees Hermione laughing at the situation. Friends were not supposed to laugh at your misfortune!

"She is truly a lost cause. And an ungrateful sister at that."

…

"Guys," Ginny exclaimed, drawing out the word with that delectable tongue. "I can hear you, you know."

Unfazed by their sister's interruption, or the twitch in her eye, the twins simply leaned back against the sofa. "Well, obviously. We said it out loud, didn't we?"

Hermione felt the laughter bubbling up to the surface and, despite making every effort to mask it, she finally caved to the pressure. Ginny could hear her best friend's laughter even without the aid of the fireplace and she simply glared at the brunette in response.

But, in all honesty, Hermione couldn't help herself. She loved the Weasley's with all her heart. Every single last one of them. For different reasons, of course, but she felt nothing but love for each and every single one of them.

"Oh, forget you," Ginny said turning away from the twins. "Alright, listen up. Long story short… I have to contact you through this…"

"Fireplace!" Fred and George moaned earning Ginny's glare once again.

"Fireplace… if I so much as think about talking to you. I mean, heaven forfend I even consider such a thing. I mean talking to you best friend. Pfft, so last year, right?"

"R-Right?" Hermione replied, unsure what to say.

"No! Wrong, Miss Granger. I need to see my best friend right this instant. So open the damn door before I kick it in. Or, as god as my witness, I will sing songs to you the likes of which you will never have heard before. I will leave you scarred for life, Hermione Granger. And trust me, you do not want that."

"Hmm?" Hermione pondered, enjoying how feisty the young redhead was being. It was quite a turn on. N-Not that it was obviously. S-She was only joking about that. "I don't know if I should let you in now."

"Hermione," Ginny teased, leaning closer to the fireplace so that her face was now inches from Hermione's. "You remember our deal at the feast, do you not? If you do not open this door in the next ten seconds. I will be forced to sing to you the entirety of Atomic Pussy. Now, I will admit I'm a little out of practice but I reckon I could still hit those high notes."

…

Suddenly, Hermione heard a chorus of loud noise somewhere in the background followed by immediately by heavy footsteps. It… It sounded like they were coming closer, in fact…

"Hermione! Hermione, for god sake let her in" Fred screamed, sliding towards the fireplace and knocking Ginny out of the way in the process.

"Seriously, Hermione, do as she says!" George continued, looking at Ginny's crumpled body and lovingly stepping over her in his rush to reach the fireplace. "Don't make us suffer through Atomic Pussy."

"Are they really that bad?" Hermione asked, staring at the two faces which were watching her with fear in their eyes.

"Yeah! They're supposed to be a tribute to some muggle band," Fred said, clicking his fingers as if that would help him remember. "Atomic Cat, Kitten, something like that and they are just terrible. I'm begging you Hermione, don't make us suffer through her singing again. She can't sign for shi…"

Upon this utterance the twins were suddenly propelled back, Ginny's features returning to the forefront. Although she looked a little different than before. The redhead was panting, her hair messy like someone had put their hands through it again and again. A little wetness could be seen on her lower lip and Hermione immediately clenched her legs together.

'_She's going to be the death of me…'_

"I'm not that bad," Ginny whined, attempting to tame her unruly hair between her hands. "Mom says I have a great singing voice."

"Of course she did. You have a voice only a mother can love. Even dad thinks she's tone death." Fred mumbled, struggling to his feet.

"Haha… Open the damn door, Hermione."

Regaining her composure, Hermione suddenly realised something that had be left out of her conversation with the Headmaster. She didn't know how to enter or leave this place.

"Um, okay. How?"

"Just say these words: entry aeternam: Ginny Weasley."

Puzzled by this, Hermione raised her eye brow. "You want me to say eternal entry: Ginny Weasley."

"What?!" Ginny shuddered, retreating from the fireplace in shock. "How did you know that?"

"I studied Latin in my spare time when I was a child. Thought it might come in handy someday, seems I was right."

Ginny, who maintained her stare with Hermione, suddenly jumped back from the fireplace. Her eyes on something that was happening above her. Whatever it was Ginny seemed to approve of it as she started smiling. What the hell was going on now?

"Well," Ginny piped up with a huge smile on her face. "Regardless of that, thanks for inviting me in."

"Eh, Ginny. That wasn't an invitation. I was merely repeating what you had said."

The redheads smile, however, only widened at her words.

"Well, it seems the fireplace would beg to differ."

"What do you mean?"

…

"Doesn't matter. I'll tell you in a moment when I see you, byeee."

And with that Ginny disappeared from view. Hermione sat still in complete silence trying to process what had just happened. Why had Ginny looked so happy? She'd never offered her entrance… So, why…

Her moment of contemplation was replaced by unease however as she heard the unmistakeable sounds of footsteps coming ever closer. These were thunderous footfalls, the figure clearly running at great speed. Hermione turned towards the front door of her quarters and, almost as if on cue, Gunny slid into the room in her socks. The young fiery had arrived dressed in what looked to be her pyjamas with a pillow wrapped in her hands around her chest.

"So," Ginny murmured, looking around the room with a whistle of approval. "How about that talk, huh?"

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

In the awkward silence that followed Hermione stared at Ginny's figure and the snug pyjama's that clung to her body. Heat rushed to her face in an instant, her breathing laboured while Ginny took in her room.

"Wow! Nice place. I approve."

Hermione registered none of this as she took in the soft, irresistible appearance of her best friend. It was… getting harder to breath. A familiar yet unwanted pounding began to press against her sex, the sound of her heart resounding in her ears. Thankfully, Ginny was unaware of this, walking around them room with evident interest. Of course, this gave Hermione the opportunity to see Ginny's entire figure and the young brunette couldn't help but lick her dry lips.

…

And then it happened.

…

Without warning Hermione's vision began to distort, the room around her becoming a blur of dark colours. Instinctively, Hermione proceeded to shut her eyes and when she opened them again something remarkable happened. Her eyes sight had suddenly enhanced itself, zooming in on Ginny and more specifically her…

'_I can't look there…'_

'_That's private…'_

Shocked by the sight she had been shown Hermione attempted to look elsewhere but only succeeded in viewing the milky white of Ginny's breasts. Growing flustered and hot, Hermione tried to shift her focus away from Ginny but that proved fruitless yet again. The young brunette now had an enhanced view of Ginny's ripe thighs. She could almost imagine how soft they were…

"So," Ginny said, the sudden sound forcing Hermione's eyes to return to their normal focus. "How about that talk, huh?"

Relieved that her vision had returned to normal – although, in Hermione's case, the damage had already been done, the brunette took stock of what the red head was wearing.

Wait!

Pyjamas?

"Are you planning to sleep over tonight?"

"Yes," Ginny said, throwing herself onto Hermione's bed and sighing wistfully. "I imagine this will be a long conversation. So… I brought necessary precautions."

As if to answer Hermione's silent question, Ginny lifted her pillow in Hermione's direction. Unfortunately, once she had noticed Ginny's shirt ride up her stomach, Hermione felt her vision begin to distort yet again. Breathing deeply, her eyes closed, Hermione managed to battle against the urges she felt in her body. Her vision returning to normal moments later.

Having shown Hermione the pillow Ginny set it back behind her head. Her body reclining on the bed as she stared up into the milky white coloured ceiling. Ginny's legs dangled of her bed, her belly button now showing above her snug shirt… all in all she seemed quite comfortable in Hermione's surroundings.

Yawning loudly, Ginny sat up, crossing her legs as she turned to look Hermione dead in the eye. "What's up, Mione? You've been… acting oddly."

"I…"

"No don't try to deny it," Ginny interrupted, sensing that Hermione was withdrawing yet again. "I know when you aren't being straight with me."

"Please, tell me. I want to help you, I want to make sure you're alright."

Hermione sighed, she knew she couldn't trick Ginny into believing her. The redhead always had a knack for telling when she was telling a fib, and in all honesty Hermione didn't want to lie to her best friend. She valued Ginny's opinion greatly after all. Not only that, but Hermione trusted Ginny enough to give her – not the whole truth – but at least a small fraction of it.

She needed an unbiased viewpoint on her own situation and maybe, just maybe, Ginny could be just that. Ginny always tried to stay impartial when it came to advice, not allowing her own personal feelings to affect Hermione's decisions. And, of course, there had been occasions when Ginny's advice had proven ill-advised or incorrect, but that didn't stop Hermione seeking out the young redhead's opinion. Because, Hermione knew that Ginny would always have her best interest close at heart. She would always support Hermione in anything she did, right or wrong. So, maybe it was time to show Ginny a little of the same trust.

"Okay, I'll tell you what happened. By you must swear to me. Swear to me that you will not flip out. Mo matter what."

"Hermione, you're starting to scare me now…" Ginny said nervously, suddenly this talk seemed a lot more serious then she had previously suspected.

"Just… promise me you'll stay calm…"

Ginny nodded her head.

"Okay. You've probably noticed how distant I've been recently."

"Yeah."

"About how jumpy I've been."

"Yeah."

Breathing deeply, Hermione prepared herself for the worst. "Well, the truth is something happened to me during the Holidays which has left me a little shaken."

Upon hearing this, Ginny immediately sat up straighter and moved closer to Hermione, holding her hands in hers. She looked so worried. It was nice to know that someone cared that deeply for her. That someone with as much life as Ginny could be brought back down to earth because of their concerns for a friend.

"A couple of weeks ago I… I was visited by someone at my house."

"D-Did they hurt you?" Ginny asked, her hands holding Hermione's a little tighter.

'_Depends on your definition…'_

She was about to say as much when she saw the look of fear cross her friends face. Ginny looked terrified. The redhead's hands becoming clammy in her grasp. Hermione took a deep breath. She had to reign back in her emotions, this was not the time to scare Ginny.

"No," Hermione stated warmly. "They didn't hurt me."

"Then what happened?"

"Well… They…" Hermione paused once again. How much truth was she prepared to tell her best friend? It was probably best not to mention things that might set her off. "They came late at night and I was alone. My parents were out to celebrate a friend's wedding, I think. So, I came downstairs, opened the door and this woman was standing there."

For some reason Hermione did not want to mention the home-breaking that had happened. Although she could not quite understand why? It was likely something was keeping her quiet. Shifting her attention to something else so that she wouldn't speak of what really happened. Perhaps Hermione feared that Ginny's opinion of the woman might be mired by this event. Why did she suddenly feel a need to protect the woman who had wrongly labelled her as her daughter?

"This woman… She… She claimed to be my biological mother."

"WHAT!?" Ginny exclaimed, shocked by the turn of events that had completely blindsided her. "Say that again!?"

"Like I said… The woman claims to be my biological mother."

Ginny stared at Hermione, opening and closing her mouth in sequence. She didn't know what to do. Should she comfort Hermione? Tell her that it was all a lie? What was she supposed to do? She wanted to make this right, to do whatever Hermione needed her to do. If that was a hug then she would hug the life out of her best friend. If it was silence then Ginny could do that too.

But she felt helpless. Useless. She didn't know what to say and it was killing her.

"I…" Ginny mumbles, staring at her hands which still held Hermione's. "Can I have some time to process all this? I-I honestly don't know what to say. This is… unexpected."

Hermione smiled, squeezing the redhead's hands which was returned. "Of course, in fact, I would prefer it if you do."

…

After a few minutes on contemplation Ginny failed turned to Hermione who straightened up instantly. "Do you believe this woman? Do you believe she is your real mother?"

"What?! No," Hermione stammers, annoyed by the question that she hoped would never come. Because in truth she was no longer as sure as she once was. Doubts had started to eat away at her. The suspicion that this woman could really be her mother were becoming apparent every single day. Nevertheless, Hermione continued her façade.

"Of course not! I-It's preposterous!"

Ginny could tell that Hermione was finding this discussion unnerving. And, understandably so. Why else would Hermione have been so out of it lately. Her entire world had been turned upside down. The brunette's reactions to her question were understandable also, she would rarely reveal this much about herself and was now finding the conversation difficult. Almost as if her brain couldn't properly digest the information which appeared foreign and alien to her. This was something Ginny had learnt after years of watching Hermione. After years of being her best friend. She could read her best friend like a book sometimes and it was as much a curse as a blessing.

"I'm sorry, Mione. You're right. Your father wouldn't have been unfaithful to your mother. They seemed like wonderful people the last time I saw them. Very accepting of me when I came to visit your house. And, you know what… I just realised something. How could she be your mother when you were inside your real mother's stomach? I saw the pictures on your desk the last time I came to visit."

Hermione blinked, that was a valid point. Why had she not reached that conclusion?

'**She… LiES… Do… Not… lISten…'**

"This woman is clearly lying to you, Mione. And… And she managed to find you in the muggle world. You need to report this."

"That's the thing," Hermione murmured, remembering the woman's words from before. "She says she cheated with me mother, not my dad."

Ginny blinked in confusion. "But women can't have babies with other women. You need a… a… a guy to, you know. Put it in. Otherwise you can't have children."

"I know that, Ginny," Hermione giggled, surprised that Ginny was turning so red. "But I don't think the woman was a muggle. I think she might have been a magica… **a witch."**

Hermione froze.

She did not say that. That hadn't been her words! But then who…

…

…

The Succubus! Suddenly, Hermione realised what had been happening. The succubus had taken control of her voice and said those words rather than the ones that might have revealed its true nature. The creature inside her was protecting itself. It didn't want to be revealed to Ginny. And, that moment before, when she had told Ginny that the woman had entered through the front door… that had been the succubus too.

…

"But that still doesn't make any sense," Ginny continued. "Witches can't have children with other women either. Not even through magic. So, what's this woman playing at. She is obviously bullshitting."

However, just as Ginny was about to run into a head of steam, the alarm on Hermione's nightstand started to beep. Both girls turned towards it, the noise having broken the tense atmosphere that had surrounded them.

'_Wait, when was there an alarm in my room…?'_

"Oh, shit!" Ginny sighed, her back falling on the bed. "Is that really the time?"

Hermione turned to look at the clock once again and followed Ginny in falling onto the bed. "Looks like it."

"Shit! I have double potions early in the morning with the Slytherin's."

Hermione grimaced at this news, poor thing.

"Alright, I need some serious sleep. But Mione," Ginny says pointing directly at Hermione. "This isn't over. I know you are still holding something back. Sorry girl but I know you too well."

Hermione laughs at this as Ginny nestles herself into the covers and dragged her pillow closer. "You coming or what?"

Despite her best intentions Hermione flushed immediately. For some reason the brunette imagined those words being said in a far more sultry tone, a semi naked Ginny whispering them to her from the same spot. She blinked, now was not the time to get hot and bothered. Especially with present company in the room. Last thing she wanted to do was scare the poor girl.

Ginny, completely misinterpreting Hermione's actions, leaned closer to Hermione. "Oh, come on, we've slept together hundreds of times before."

"Y-Yeah," Hermione stutters, her mind racing to find an adequate cover for her flushed cheeks. "But you remember what happened last time? You kicked me off the bed and stole all the covers."

This time Hermione's blush was quickly matched by Ginny's. The redhead hid under the covers and looked at anything that wasn't Hermione Granger. "I'll face the other way then."

Laughing, Hermione finally had the confidence to nestle down next to Ginny. She was thankfully dressed in short shorts and a comfortable t-shirt, not quite sleeping wear but it will have to do. As for her bra, well, she could survive sleeping in it for one night. Now, all she had to do was keep a safe distance away from Ginny because if they touched lord knows what would happen. It would most likely end in a kiss and the end of a friendship.

She didn't have time to focus on those thoughts however as she needed to fall into a deep and restful sleep as soon as possible.

…

It was an hour later when Hermione was finally able to fall asleep…

…

…

But little did she know that the Succubus was now opening her eyes…

'**GINNY… GINNY… GINNY…'**

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**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Well, ladies and gentlemen I hope you have enjoyed this chapter.

I finally bought my new laptop after the previous one broke two months ago and it is incredible. The best money I have ever spent and well worth saving up for. This is great news for people who love this story because it means I will be able to write more of this story. I am hoping for more frequent updates. I have a lot to make up for after disappointing you all again and again. Time will tell.

Now, onto something I wanted to discuss with you for a few weeks. I was recently asked by one of my readers whether this story would have futunari because Hermione's mothers created a baby. If you do not know what futunari is then I will explain. Futunari is basically a woman who has a penis. Now, I must admit I never thought of this but it does make sense in the flow of this story. However, I can understand if some readers would prefer this story to have women with no male extremities attached to their person.

I am undecided on this, so… I am leaving it up to you.

Now, if Hermione were to have a penis, my suggestion would be that she doesn't have it all the time. Perhaps it only comes out when she is in the middle of a steamy sex scene. She wouldn't have a penis permanently because there are many scenes that require Hermione to be penis-less. I won't go into more detail.

Please leave a comment on whether you would like to see futunari in this story.

This will help me reach a consensus on the issue.

Okay then, now that I have finished that I just want to say thank you for reading and I hope you will come to love what I have in store for this story. The new potential pairings for Hermione are just below, just so you have an idea of which characters will be involved with Hermione.

Oh, and furthermore, brace yourself for the next chapter because it may very well be your favourite.

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**Hermione – Ginny Weasley x Pansy Parkinson x Chloe Roberts x Daphne Greengrass x Anna Diggory x ? x ? x ? x ? x ?**


	11. Chapter 10: Awaken to Temptation

Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 10: Awaken to Temptation.

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

**Author's Note: There is another important Author's Note that you may wish to read after this chapter. I believe I have reached a solution in regards to the use of futanari in this story. Please read the Author's Note at the end of this chapter to learn about this. BUT DON'T READ IT BEFORE. The Note is filled with spoilers that will ruin your enjoyment of this chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I would advise reading it in private if at all possible.**

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This was getting ridiculous.

It was almost two in the morning, and yet Ginny Weasley could not fall asleep. She had tried **everything** but her efforts showed no signs of bearing fruit. And when Ginny says she 'tried everything' she assuredly means it. She had tried closing her eyes - wishing herself to sleep - to zero success. Had attempted to find the perfect space in the bed to nestle her body into, which was met with only further failure. Hell, she had even tried knocking herself unconscious with the very soft pillow.

What more could a girl do?

Sighing, Ginny's rolled onto her back, scowling at the ceiling. This was just typical. She had one of the toughest days of her life coming up and yet her body refused the sleep it so desperately needed. Typical. Turning towards the small muggle clock on Hermione's bedside table, Ginny's mood soared. Time seemed to be flying by now. What was once two in the morning had become half past two? Where had the time gone?

Pulling at her scalp, Ginny returned her murderous stare to the ceiling. That damn ceiling. She'd been staring at it for the past two hours. There was nothing remarkable about it. Nothing that kept her stimulated to the point of not being able to fall asleep. It was just… there. And, for some bizarre reason, Ginny thought it was mocking her?

'_Yeah… Yeah… Stupid ceiling!'_

'_You just sit there and… and…'_

'…'

'_Stupid ceiling!'_

Feeling uncomfortable, Ginny turned to another position, her body facing the other occupant of the room. A smile rose to her lips upon noticing her best friend. Hermione was, thankfully, not facing the same problem as she was. The brunette was fast asleep, unaware of the disapproving looks coming from the red head.

_Of course she can sleep_, Ginny mused. _She has no problems falling asleep. Hell, she's a master at it. Probably falls asleep in two seconds flat on a regular basis. Show off!_

However, before Ginny's inner mumblings could proceed any further, Hermione suddenly shifted in her sleep. All thoughts instantly losing their importance as she watched her best friend arch her back, the top of her breasts becoming more prominent in her loose shirt. The parting of Hermione's lips, and the breathy exhale issuing forth, causing heat to rise in the redhead's body.

"…"

Ginny gulped, licking her lips unconsciously as she watched Hermione closely. The small trickle of sweat that dotted along her forehead and upper breasts making the sight so much more irresistible.

This was just… so unfair.

Hermione had always been the embodiment of natural beauty. There was just something about Hermione that set her apart from all of the other girls Ginny had seen. Of course, that's not to say the other girls in Gryffindor weren't nice to look at. It was just that… Hermione was so different from all of them. An unknown quantity.

Despite all their time together, Ginny had never been able to settle on what made Hermione so special. She had, after all, watched the brunette admiringly for a very long time. From the very beginning in fact. She had watched as Hermione had blossomed from a fragile, headstrong girl, to a confident and gorgeous young lady. The transformation had been shocking and yet… Hermione had not been changed by it.

Despite the notable physical changes Hermione's interests never wavered. She still found joy in learning new things, reinforcing her knowledge about the world both magical and muggle. There had been many a time when Ginny would find the brunette studying in the library, from dusk till dawn, her features rapt with concentration. Ginny couldn't understand the lifestyle choice but she knew that her best friend preferred things this way. To be left alone, remaining uninterrupted in her studies.

But that's not to say that Hermione was a recluse. She had many good friends, and many relied on her heavily to improve their school work. Of course, Hermione would only tutor students who genuinely wanted to improve. She would not allow you to copy her work for instance – unless you were Harry or Ron that is. Many valued Hermione for her compassion, which at times showed no limits; going so far as to help younger students in distress regardless of their House.

Then there were her closest friends, Harry and Ron. Ginny knew Hermione would have moved heaven and earth to support those two no matter the circumstances. She relied on them heavily, as did they. In fact, you would rarely see the group apart. The only time one strayed from the group would be when Hermione went to the library. Otherwise Hermione could be seen with her two best friends, talking in a manner many would not have expected.

There was a part of Ginny that had grown… jealous of this barrier. If she was being completely honest, Ginny would have admitted that she wanted to be a part of that group. Less so for Harry, which had previously been her intent. But more because of Hermione. She wanted to talk with her more, learn more about her life. They called each other friends, of course, but Ginny couldn't help but feel like Hermione was simply humouring her. Maybe she didn't value their friendship as highly as she did with Harry or Ron?

That thought wasn't entirely without merit, however. Ron and Harry had, after all, fought and protected each other from Lord Voldemort and his death eaters. Their connection would undoubtedly be strong through that connection alone.

Ginny knew she was being childish, another aspect of herself that she hated and hadn't managed to overcome. The distance – in the redhead's mind at least - that had been created between them had caused Ginny to seek out Hermione's company on a more consistent basis. She had been quite pushy in this, to the point where many of her classmates had even asked her about it. But she had no answers for the. She just couldn't help it. There was this feeling of need that now resonated inside her. A need to be friends with Hermione Granger. A need to be seen and be acknowledged by the unique brunette. And, most terrifying of all, a need to be seen as irreplaceable.

Quite why she felt this way, and what these feelings even meant, never became apparent to the redhead. These thoughts – which were now harbouring on ownership – had begun to terrify her. Ginny had never felt this way before. She knew this wasn't normal behaviour. Yes, in her mind, she passed it off as a desire to find a best friend, someone she could spend time with in comfort. But somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew that wasn't quite right.

Although, now that she had time to think about it, Ginny finally realised something. If Hermione truly wanted nothing to do with Ginny – or simply didn't find her interesting enough – then she would have simply said so.

That was another thing that Ginny loved about Hermione; she was always honest. She never looked to share the opinions of others just because those thoughts were considered right or popular. No, if Hermione happened to disagree with you then she would say it to your face. And, what's more, she would explain why in a calm fashion rather than resort to childish name calling. Which Ginny was practically famous for during the last year.

That was one aspect of Hermione that had drawn Ginny in early on. Hermione was honest - often brutally so – but unlike others, the redhead didn't care about that. She preferred the straightforward approach. It was far better than being agreed with when you could tell the other person found you obnoxious in secret. She hated that about some of her classmates. They would laugh and agree with every word you say and then, behind your back, they would talk about you amongst their friends.

Ginny wasn't like that. She refused to associate with those kind of people. Of course, her behaviour had often been talked about among her classmates, to the point that the word 'tomboy' had been thrown around in provocation. Not that it affected her in any way. Quite the opposite, in fact. She wore it as a badge of honour. She had, after all, grown up with five brothers, so she wasn't surprised by the nickname bestowed upon her.

In fact, she loved it. It was partly due to this – the approval of her own nickname – that resulted in her sharp increase in popularity. That coupled with her charming, playful and winning personality, led her to being named; the most popular student in her year. No word of a lie. There was a secret poll taken and everything. The entire year had picked Ginny as that years, miss popular. Along with a number of other rewards which Ginny did not even care to acknowledge.

However, despite her popularity, Ginny still had a habit of disappointing the people who keenly admired her. The redhead could often be seen arguing with other students in Hogwarts, their image of the cute redhead crumbling as she spoke. The problem stemmed from her own inadequacies because, while a calmer mind might have sought a peaceful solution to these argument, Ginny would have none of it. She lacked the proper composure to deal with these situations.

That was the difference between Ginny and Hermione. While Ginny would come across as offensive and boisterous in those situations. Hermione would remain the image of composure. Never raising her voice when confronted but simply stating her opinions with confidence. The complete opposite of Ginny who would need to pulled away by her friends just to keep her from wringing the student's damn neck. That often happened when her family was mentioned - and Luna, Ginny hated it when people called Luna names.

Luna was a taboo topic, in Ginny's presence. Unless you had something complimentary to say about her then it was best to keep your mouth shut. They were very good friends, after all. Ginny loved spending time with the girl because, similarly to Hermione, Luna was far more interesting than anyone else in the School. Her views and experiences were incredible to listen to, Luna was also friendly and a pleasure to be around.

Who couldn't like Luna…?

She knew one person who liked Luna almost as much as she did… and that person's name was Hermione Granger. No surprises there.

…

Smiling to herself, Ginny settled into her spot on the bed and continued to watch the sleeping figure. As she watched Hermione – the clock ticking noisily in the background – Ginny's breath gradually began to deepen.

"…"

She felt this sudden, uncontrollable urge to move the stray hairs away from Hermione's face. They were in the way. Ginny wanted an unimpeded view of her best friend, and those few hairs were ruining everything. Somehow, Ginny managed to resist the nagging temptation. It was best not to wake her, Ginny decided. What reason would she have for waking her best friend? Why would she even want to ruin this golden opportunity?

No, she wanted to watch her without interruption. She just wanted a good, long look; that was all.

Unfortunately, at that moment, Hermione groaned and shifted her body away from Ginny. The redhead watching this movement with a prominent pout spreading to her lips. The view of Hermione's front was now gone, the only thing which could be seen were the covers that had been pulled up to neck level.

'_Damn…'_

'_I didn't even get a good look…'_

Falling back onto her pillow, Ginny stared at the ceiling once again. There was no time to sit and admire Hermione. She had to sleep. This was her number one priority. So, with this thought in mind, Ginny closed her eyes and snuggled into the mattress. She tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of her toes sticking out of the covers – it was something she avoided when sleeping. It was one of her biggest pet peeves. Ginny always ensured that her entire body – feet included - remained tucked under the covers. Unfortunately, the covers on Hermione's bed were smaller than her own back home… but there was not much to be done about that. She would just have to deal with it for the night. Somehow.

Breathing a frustrated sigh, Ginny remained motionless in the bed.

"Goodnight, Mione."

Having said her peace, Ginny prepared herself for a long needed slumber.

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Then, just as Ginny was about to fall asleep, she felt a slight pressure fall across her stomach. Acknowledging this, Ginny groaned in frustration and reluctantly opened her eyes. This was just typical, Ginny thought. She was moments away from falling asleep and that was when whatever happened just had to happen. Moving her stiff limbs, Ginny looked down at her stomach. And what she saw took her by surprise. She had half-expected it to be Crookshanks, who had made it his personal duty to annoy Ginny at the least opportune moments. But it wasn't Crookshanks on this occasion…

It was Hermione.

Staring at her stomach, Ginny saw an arm resting on top of her, gripping the side of her abdomen. The pressure was light but it set the redhead's heart beating that little bit faster. To say this contact was unexpected would have been an understatement. It was a little known fact about Hermione but she disliked it when people touched her. Ginny had learned of this aversion last year from Hermione herself. It was something that Hermione had kept to herself for a long time.

Ginny remembered the conversation vividly. They had been drinking butterbeer at the Burrow during the School holiday – the butterbeer having been smuggled in by Fred and George. The conversation had started off light at first but as time passed it had grown gradually more serious. And that was when Hermione had hit her with that surprising truth. Whether Hermione had let that truth slip from her lips willingly or if it had been caused by the butterbeer flowing through her system, Ginny did not know. But, regardless, she would not be opposed to being touched like this in the future.

It was a pleasant feeling. To be touched by your best friend in this innocent manner.

Turning to face Hermione, Ginny's features soared in disappointment. She should have expected this. Ginny had hoped that Hermione was awake, her actions a conscious decision on her part. But that was obviously too good to be true. Hermione was still fast asleep. This arm that now rested across her stomach meant nothing, just the unconscious actions of her best friend. A strange cold swept over Ginny at this thought.

'_She's asleep…'_

'_Hermione would never touch me on purpose…'_

'_Why do I even care about that…?'_

'_It's not like I want her to touch me…'_

Breathing deeply, her hand rising to rest on Hermione's forearm, Ginny looked back towards her best friend. It seemed that even in sleep Hermione had the wherewithal to look absolutely stunning. Her brunette locks swept over the white pillow, framing her face perfectly for Ginny to admire. And admire it she did.

For what felt like hours, Ginny resumed her inspection of Hermione's features. Bright brown eyes roaming all of her face; from her cute button nose, to her slightly flushed skin all the way to the pink, smooth surface of her lips. As Ginny's eyes settled on that, she licked her own lips in response. She was growing hot all of a sudden, maybe it was the heat. Hermione looked quite warm too, considering her flushed cheeks and shallow breathing.

A flicker of movement caught Ginny's attention before she could be swallowed up by the sight of Hermione's lips. A small lock of brown hair drifted across her nose and Hermione responded in the most adorable of ways. Before Ginny's very eyes, Hermione scrunched her nose up, attempting to move the stray hair through willpower alone. When that did not work Hermione's unoccupied hand rose to her nose and clumsily swatted at the hair.

Ginny could not help but let out a loud squeal on the inside. The sight was so cute. The actions resembled those of a small cat, swatting at its nose. The comparison made Ginny smile even wider. How could someone be so graceful and beautiful and then, in a matter of moments, be so cute and endearing?

Realising that Hermione was having no luck getting rid of the hair, Ginny leaned forward and scooped it away gently. She was careful not to touch Hermione, fearing she would wake and the moment would pass all too quickly. That was the last thing she wanted.

Once the hair was removed, Hermione suddenly smiled and snuggled closer into the pillow, inadvertently approaching Ginny in the same movement. Ginny froze. Hermione was only a few centre metres away. Her heart beat began to quicken, the sound reverberating inside her ears. The moisture on her lips evaporating as she felt Hermione's breath fan them over and over again. What was happening? Why was Ginny feeling so… entranced by this sight?

The hand that rested on Ginny's side wrapped tightly around her, drawing her closer. Instinctively, Ginny leaned back, her upper body arching away from Hermione while her mid-section was drawn in. A gasp slipped past her lips as she felt her waist make contact with Hermione's, the barrier of clothing was still evident but it sent her heart racing none the less.

Then, just as Ginny was gradually beginning to lose her composure, Hermione suddenly started laughing. Turning to look at the brunette – as she had previously been looking at anything that wasn't Hermione Granger – Ginny paused in wonder. Was… Was Hermione awake? Was she just playing around?

Scrunching her eyes to look at Hermione's eye lids, Ginny realised they were still shut. She could have been pretending, of course, but somehow Ginny doubted it. Her eyes were closed but in a natural fashion, they weren't forcibly closed. She would have noticed if they were as Hermione's eyes would have had more wrinkles around the edges, which is what happens when you scrunch your eyes. No, Hermione was still very much asleep. So, what was she laughing at?

It took Ginny only a few seconds to realise what was going on.

…

Hermione was laughing at something that she could see in her dream.

Relaxing her posture, Ginny gradually accepted the contact initiated by Hermione, resting her head back on her pillow as she watched her best friend's fit of giggles. The sound was small, almost feather light but it reached her clearly. What a wonderful sight.

'_God, Hermione…'_

'_You are simply too cute…'_

No words could aptly describe what was unfurling in front of her very eyes. She simply basked in the moment, documenting every single second to memory so that she could watch it over and over again in absolute clarity.

Lifting a hand to Hermione cheek, Ginny brushed the skin with her thumb. She knew she shouldn't, that she should reign in her hand and keep it by her side, but she simply didn't have the power. This was one moment where she would allow herself a small moment of weakness. Hopefully nothing would come of it but if something did then she would have to deal with the consequences.

"So cute," Ginny mumbled. "You really are so… Ah!"

Suddenly, just as Ginny was about to utter her last words, Hermione's knee rose and pressed against her sex. Upon contact Ginny immediately arched forward, both hands gripping the fabric of Hermione's loose shirt. The moan that slipped past her lips was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was deep, almost as if it had originated from her own stomach. The sensation still swam around even now. She had never felt anything like it.

What the hell was going on…?

She had not moaned like that when she had snogged Dean Thomas last year nor when she masturbated in her room when everyone was away. The sound was frightening, almost feral and it set her entire body on fire.

Unable to control the pulsing in her lower body, Ginny panted, her head falling to Hermione's collar bone. The older girl did not move, a strong knee pressing against her pussy with varying degrees of strength put behind it. Hermione still had a strong grip on Ginny's body, one arm circling around Ginny's lower back while the other drifted to the back of the redhead's neck. Ginny's quick, frantic breaths fanned over Hermione's neck but Ginny was completely unaware of this. She simply couldn't believe what had happened.

"H-Hermione…? W-Wha…"

Unable to look Hermione directly in the eye, Ginny stared at her collarbone. The ability to speak escaping her.

As Ginny's body began to tremble, Hermione unconsciously pressed herself closer to Ginny. She was hugging the younger girl, her knee still pressed against the redhead's throbbing sex. Despite her own predicament, Ginny registered the smooth texture of Hermione's skin somewhere in the back of her mind. Hermione radiated intense heat, so much so that Ginny felt her body begin to sweat, her hands cold and clammy.

Then, as Ginny was about to push away from her best friend, Hermione's knee suddenly moved away of its own accord. Relieved, she took several hurried breaths, her hands still clutching Hermione's shirt to the point her knuckles had turned white. She had to breathe, breathe, her mind kept telling her over and over again.

However, just as Ginny had started to regain her breath, she suddenly had it forced out of her once again. There was little time to prepare herself, her body immediately trembling and arching upon contact. Gasping, Ginny felt Hermione's knee press against the tip of her clitoris, applying pressure in an almost **teasing** manner. Impossible, of course, since you would've had to have been an expert to even attempting something like that. And Hermione was certainly no expert.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Almost as if those words had somehow offended Hermione, the brunette's knee began to rub hard against Ginny's pussy. With every flex of her knee, Ginny felt the throbbing in her sex becoming more and more pronounced. She was moaning now, unrestrainedly. Her body arching in accordance with Hermione's movements, welcoming it. And that was the worst part of all this.

Ginny didn't know if she wanted this. It was all so confusing. A whirlwind of thoughts battling against a barrier in her mind which was overcome by the sensations pulsing all over her body. She couldn't think. All thoughts were there but… she couldn't hear them. The world around her felt dark and oh so hot. All she could feel was Hermione; her warmth, her flesh and her probing knee. Hermione. The only coherent thought that crossed her mind, mixed in with her breathy voice that moaned along with the throbbing in her pussy.

'_I… Hermione… Why is…'_

That was all her thoughts amounted to. Nothing was clear. A fog like substance engulfed her mind, her memories… tentacles of a black beast latching onto her brain, repressing all thought and feeling. All feelings, except that of desire, hunger and lust.

"AH! OH! AH!"

Without conscious intent, Ginny's hips started to thrust against Hermione's knee. A hand in Hermione's shirt leaving fabric to rest against the brunette's hip, giving her enough perches to move in time with their joint rhythm. Breathing heavily, a moan slipping out intermittently, Ginny felt the sweat that coated Hermione's skin. It was nice. Hermione felt nice.

…

"Hermione!"

Suddenly the fog that had surrounded her entire being waivered. Ginny's half lidded eyes opening fully. She felt the contact again, the sensation somewhat lightened since she had regained some semblance of sanity. Hermione's knee was rubbing up and down her sex, she could feel her pussy lips being pulled this way and that. It was an incredible feeling, but Ginny knew this wasn't right.

What was happening?

Why was Hermione doing this?

S-She had to get away.

'_This… Ah!'_

'_This isn't… r-right!'_

'_She can't… She'd never…'_

Feeling energy flow to her tired muscles, Ginny immediately tried to pull away. She pushed against Hermione's shoulders desperately trying to create some distance between them. The action helped very little, however, as only her upper body had managed to pull away from the embrace. She was still being held by her mid-riff, and the hold seemed to tighten in response to Ginny's actions.

In her attempts to get away, Ginny inadvertently jerked forward, her clothed sex colliding with Hermione's knee hard. The euphoria that gripped her causing quite an unexpected reaction. As Hermione's knee parted Ginny's sex – through the moist fabric – the younger girls eyes bulged, her lip quivering as she felt a slow spread of moisture stain Hermione's leg.

"Ahahhhhh!"

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Ginny froze, a feeling of cold nausea leaving her motionless. She couldn't move. This couldn't be happening, Ginny thought. She felt a wave of humiliation and fear wash over her, vying for dominance. The pounding in her sex lessening as the seconds rolled by.

'_D-D-Did I…'_

'_Did I just… c-climax…?'_

The moisture that now coated Hermione's leg was proof of this but Ginny refused to believe it. It couldn't have been real. This had to be a dream. Some nightmare her feverish mind had conjured up to scare her. So, why wasn't she waking up? Why could she feel every sensation coursing through her body?

The sounds of Hermione's breathing suddenly evaded her thoughts. The sound had been made close to her ear, fanning across her reddened earlobe. Ginny's thoughts halted once again, concern for her best friend rising within her.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, panic clear in her voice.

However, just as Ginny turned to look at Hermione, she suddenly found herself falling on top of the brunette. When she collided with Hermione's front, the brunette immediately circled her arms back around Ginny's waist. She was stuck in place again, only this time Ginny could now feel the warm sensation of her small breasts being pressed against Hermione's slightly more developed pair. Ginny flushed at the contact, her eyes widening as the fire in her belly returned, undiminished.

"Wait! H-Hermione!"

Ginny felt Hermione's arms slide across her body, pressing every part of her further against the brunette. Her hands eventually coming to rest in separate places; one tangled in ginger locks while the other slipped below the waist line of Ginny's shorts. Heat immediately scorched her skin once again, the fog returning to her mind as she became engulfed in bliss.

As if to limit Ginny's escape options even further, both of Hermione's legs slipped out from underneath the redhead and hugged the back of Ginny's thighs. Her ankles crossing at the back of Ginny's knee joint, further emphasising that she was not going to escape. None of this registered in Ginny's mind though as something strange was happening.

Turning to locate the strange occurrence, Ginny's eyes immediately widened and her mouth hung open. Her top – her favourite pyjama top – was burning. No, it wasn't burning it was… it was melting. Ginny could only watch as some hidden flame tore at her clothes, singing the fabric and revealing skin to the open air. She was alarmed at first, her unconscious mind fighting against its constraints, but she eventually calmed. The sensation didn't hurt. Her skin did not feel any of the heat that tore at her clothes. It was… freeing.

'_Freeing…'_

'_Free-ing…'_

As her shirt peeled off her body, Ginny tried to cover herself but this task was made nigh on impossible by Hermione. The brunette in question refused to move and instead held the younger girl firmly in place. Ginny tried to twist in Hermione's grip to cup her breasts but all movement failed when she felt a strange texture brush her skin. The unmistakeable feeling of a nipple brushing against her hardened nub bringing her back to attention.

"…"

Hermione was completely naked. Ginny knew this as her waist no longer pressed against fabric, she felt flesh and the wisps of pubic hair brush her privates. Shocked by the smooth texture, Ginny leaned back and looked down along their bodies. She ignored the feeling of her sex pushing against Hermione's, her eyes looking between the small gaps their bodies left.

"W-What?"

Ginny's eyes took in Hermione's slim yet toned body, slick with sweat and perspiration that made her skin glisten in the darkness. Hermione was toned, no doubt about that. Her thighs pliant to the touch. She wasn't overly skinny like the malnourished models she had seen in the muggle world. No, she was just right. Shapely and plump in all the right places; from her curvaceous ass which begged to be gripped in both hands, all the way up to her developing breasts.

'_Those breasts…'_

'_Ummm!'_

'_What I wouldn't do to stick my tongue between them…'_

Hermione was as close to perfection as she had ever seen. Ginny had never considered what the body of her ideal man or woman would look like but now she knew. She almost felt humiliated in comparison. Her body was smaller, developing at a faster pace compared to others in her year but it still didn't hold a candle to Hermione's. The only positive of note, Ginny surmised, was the complexion and tone of her body -the years of Quidditch practice having played a big part in this.

Ginny's skin appeared to be a shade darker than Hermione's. The years of playing in the sun having turned her light brown in comparison to the brunette's fair skin. It was one aspect of herself that Ginny really liked. Many often complimented her on the tone of her skin, others watching enviously using artificial means in hopes of achieving the same complexion. They failed, of course. This was a look you could only get by natural means.

As Hermione's hands pulled Ginny back down to rest atop her body, Ginny felt her toned stomach make contact with the brunette's pubic hair. The hair was rubbing, rhythmically, against her smooth stomach, the heat rising as Hermione moved her hips like a belly dancer against her abs. Her abs were not pronounced but they could be felt under her stomach, and with every thrust of Hermione's hips, Ginny arched into the contact.

Ginny was silent. Her mind concentrating on following the pace of Hermione's hips. The pace was slow, teasing and with every breath that Hermione exhaled Ginny breathed it in. There was no room for thinking. Thinking had left the room the moment her naked body had made contact with Hermione. She was simply immersing herself in the experience, holding Hermione close and jutting her hips out along with her best friend.

'_This… This can't be happening…'_

'_She's touching me…'_

'_Hermione, you're… you're touching me…'_

Hermione, repositioning Ginny on top of her - so she was now thrusting against her pussy – placed her hands against the redhead's hip. Ginny made no attempts to escape, sitting on Hermione's waist as they rhythmically humped each other. Hermione's eyes closed, her face contorted in extreme bliss as she panted against her pillow. Ginny was entranced, sliding up and down Hermione's shapely waist, perspiration on their skin making their actions flow at a steady rhythm.

Their eyes were closed, the darkness only illuminated by the glistening of sweat that stained their bodies. Fluids dripping from their rubbing sexes, as Hermione and Ginny continued to press against one another harder and harder.

'_She's your friend…'_

'_Why are you doing this to your friend…?'_

'_This is Hermione… You shouldn't be doing this to her…'_

But she wanted to. God, she wanted to do this. Every fibre of her being encouraged her to continue this… whatever this was. This was Hermione, the special person in her heart. She would never admit it but in her younger days there had always been this nagging doubt in her mind when she looked at Harry.

When everyone said she liked Harry she knew why, why everyone thought she still clung to that childish passing. She did feel that way about him once. But all those thoughts vanished as she spent more and more time with Hermione Granger. She was perfect, the woman that dreams tried to encapsulate. And now she was here, in her arms, reciprocating every affectionate touch she offered.

'_Oh, god…'_

'_Fuck… Fuck… Yes!'_

'_Don't stop… Please, don't stop!'_

'_I-I love this…'_

'_God fucking damn it I love… I love…'_

Gasping audibly as Hermione roughly leaned up and brought Ginny down to lie on top of her, the redhead felt thin arms capture her. Hermione was hugging her, sighing softly into her ear directly, in shuddering breaths. This moment of splendour didn't stop there though, continuing when she felt Hermione's shapely breasts press into her own, hands wrapping and pulling on Ginny's shoulders to increase the pressure.

This felt so good. Hermione felt so good. Ginny instinctively moved up and down Hermione's body, her range limited greatly due to the hold around her. Hermione followed her movement once again and their breasts fell together, pressing and moulding into one another. She was breathing heavy breaths now, moaning into Ginny's reddened ears in a way that quickened the redhead's pace.

Ginny's state of bliss was momentarily lifted when she felt her body being twisted onto the covers of the bed, the fog returning after one thrust of Hermione's hips. Hermione was now above her, pounding her pussy with an intensity that she had not expected. Ginny held on, eyes wide and mouth open in loud moans as Hermione gritted her teeth. She was close. So very, very close to reaching orgasm again.

Looking up at the ceiling, Ginny felt her body moving up and down the loose covers of the bed. Hermione was moving fast, Ginny's hands having to hold on to the mattress for fear that she would be humped off the bed. Ginny's hands gripped above her head, her eyes rolling as Hermione's warm lips pressed against her neck, not in a kiss but in mere contact.

Ginny was loving this. This was everything she had wanted out of her first time. Hot, unforgettable sex with none other than the person she loved the most… Hermione.

'_HERMIONE!'_

And that was when it happened. As Ginny's eyes returned to focus she suddenly saw a reflection from the ceiling, strange since the ceiling didn't have a mirror originally. In fact, the entire ceiling was a mirror and it was showing… showing…

"Hermione!" Ginny screamed, intense pleasure still pounding within her as she came to her senses once again.

'_W-What's going on…?'_

'_Hermione would never do something like this…'_

'_So, why…'_

Freezing, Ginny suddenly came across a terrifying thought. She looked around for any sign of the offending item but didn't see hide nor hair of it. Hermione continued to moan into Ginny's ear, dry-humping the younger girl who suddenly registered their predicament. She tried to pull away. Her entire body fighting Hermione's hold as she attempted to claw her way to safety. Hermione refused to move, however, instead pressing herself further between Ginny's legs as she tried to escape.

'_This… This isn't right…'_

"H-He-Hermione! Please, wake up," Ginny screamed, eyes pleading. "You're under a spell! Please, wake up!"

This was the conclusion that she had reached. The only explanation that made sense as to why Hermione would even consider touching her. Not to mention the state Hermione was in. She was clearly unaware of what was happening, eyes closed and still fast asleep despite everything that was happening. It all made sense now. Someone had drugged Hermione. For what purpose; Ginny didn't even dare imagine the possibilities. But a sudden desire to protect Hermione came over her, a belief that someone was prepared to rape her late at night cementing itself in her mind.

'_Why else would she be acting like this today…?'_

'_The fucking asshole probably didn't even realise Hermione was moving into a new dorm…'_

Pushing against Hermione, her hands pressing against naked flesh, Ginny tried to wriggle her way out of the bed. She had managed to turn onto her stomach and claw her way to the edge, Hermione still holding onto her body. How Hermione was able to remain asleep after being pushed and tossed left and right, Ginny did not know. She should have been awake the moment Ginny tried to move away from their embrace but she didn't wake. In fact, she held on, pulling Ginny closer whenever she was close to escaping again and again.

What the hell was this drug?

Ginny had heard of dangerous and illegal substances that would make the recipient unconscious for days, where memories would be deleted and lost even to those capable of Legilimency. That knowledge was all contained in the Daily Prophet and spread to the readers on a case by case basis. But this… this was something else. Ginny had never heard of a concoction that would make someone respond to sexual advances, even when they were unconscious. There was no such thing in the muggle or wizarding world. Not even love potions had this effect.

What the hell was she supposed to do?

How could she end this with both of their chastity intact?

"Hermione, please," Ginny begged, turning to look into Hermione's closed eye lids. "I-I love you and I've… I've always wanted to feel you, but not like this. Not when you aren't really here!"

The words did not register in Hermione's mind because, with one quick motion, Hermione had rolled Ginny along with her and pinned the redhead firmly against the bed. As Ginny was about to scream, to beg Hermione to listen to her, a body wrecking gasp left her lips. Something… Something had pressed against her sex. But… But that was impossible, Hermione's hands were occupied and holding her hands at bay. So… So what was touching Ginny's entrance right now?

The answer arrived in unexpected fashion moments later. As Ginny looked at Hermione's face, her eyes wide, a movement to her left caught her attention. She turned to look but there was nothing there. How strange? It must have been her imagination but she was sure that… Then a sudden movement appeared to her right, blurring her vision once again. But when Ginny turned to look everything seemed normal, not a thing out of place. What the hell was going on?

And then she saw it. A tail. A dark, thin tail swaying from side to side. Ginny watched it in horror, the swaying of the tail rhythmic as it moved effortlessly through the air. Ginny froze, realising what the pressure on her pussy had been. It had been this tail. Where did it even come from? Why was it even here in the first place?

"Hermione?! W-What…?"

But Hermione didn't let her finish her sentence, or perhaps it would have been more apt to say the tail wouldn't let her finish. Because, as Ginny was stuttering through her sentence, the tail had whipped its way towards Ginny before resting motionless, centre metres away from her face. The speed of the action startled Ginny, her eyes closing for fear that it was going to harm her but nothing happened.

She didn't dare open her eyes. She feared this… this thing. Whatever the hell it was!?

As Ginny remained silent, her body closing in on itself, she heard a noise emanating nearby. That was the one of the drawbacks of closing your eyes, because, even if you refused to look at the creature, the act would inadvertently heighten other senses. And in this case it was Ginny's hearing. She could hear it, the unmistakeable sounds of that creature cutting through the air somewhere nearby. The sound made the hairs on the back of Ginny's neck stand up, she found the tail very creepy.

"Um… Mmm!"

Ginny eyes shot open immediately, her lip quivering after it had been flicked by something which tasted strangely fleshy. Looking towards the source of the disturbance Ginny saw it again. That damn tail. It was hovering in front of her, swaying from side to side like a viper ready to strike. It scared Ginny. She didn't know what to do. So, when the end of the tail approached her Ginny merely froze and did not resist when it slipped between her lips.

"Mmm!"

The tail trailed the inside of her mouth, brushing along her teeth and gums before settling on her tongue. Ginny could feel the tails texture as it slid across, it was soft and tasted, bizarrely of Hermione. Quite why she felt this way, Ginny didn't know but she remained completely still as the tail's end rubbed her tongue in short motions.

It must have seemed an odd sight. A woman with a tail rubbing the tonsils of a young redhead who sat rigid on a bed. It would have appeared odd to some but not to a magical creature like the Succubus. The Succubae were well aware of their genetic advantage, the fact that they could grow a tail just below their lower back when they felt incredibly horny. That was where the tail had come from, it had come from Hermione.

The tail in question was a strange instrument, even to the Succubae. It had a habit of changing colour when out in the open. At this moment of time it was green, the Succubae associated this colour with the feeling of intense lust. A danger to any unsuspecting man or woman who should so happen to see it.

Breathing heavily, Ginny felt the spongy end of the tail continue to roam around her mouth, flicking her tongue at random intervals. She could feel it pulsing inside her mouth, a strange sensation that made her fear the worst. But Ginny didn't dare bite down, she didn't know what would happen should she anger this strange creature.

Eventually the tail trailed out of her mouth, saliva dripping from its surface onto Ginny's knees before it rose and pressed itself against Hermione's lips. Ginny shook at the sight. The tail was pressing her saliva in-between Hermione's lips and that was when Ginny snapped. No, no one was allowed to treat Hermione like that. No one would take advantage of Hermione in her company.

Leaping forward to pull the tail out of Hermione's mouth Ginny suddenly fell on her back, the tail having wrapped around her neck and forced her to the bed. That was when Ginny saw where the tail had come from. The tail forming around the skin below Hermione's lower back. Ginny had little time to register this, however, as Hermione had suddenly returned to resting on top of the younger girl.

"Hermione! Wait!"

Hermione didn't listen and proceeded to thrust herself into Ginny roughly once again. Her hands digging into the back of her neck, tangling in her hair as she dry humped the redhead. Although, whether you could still call it dry-humping, when both teenagers were drenched in sweat was anyone's guess. Ginny tried to resist. She really, really did but everything was working against her. Her will to fight had disappeared, pleasure now taking priority in her brain, as her hands were held and the tail was playing with the lips of her pussy.

Her mind was gone, the fog had returned and this time it wasn't going anywhere.

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"Ahahhhhh!"

"Mmm! Oh! Ah!"

Ginny moaned into Hermione's open mouth, their lips inches away as their sexes rubbed together. Ginny had forgotten about the tail now, its existence gone from her mind as she simply rode Hermione like she was her prized bull. Hermione returning that fervour tenfold, hands pulling at the redhead's hair.

Hermione's tail swung overhead in approval, swaying this way and that as it allowed the two girls to become absorbed in one another. The feeling that gripped Ginny was intense and she no longer cared about the outside world. Her world was Hermione now. She was the only worthy occupant of this world. And she was bringing her so close…

Ginny felt Hermione's damp forehead press against her own, their dishevelled and matted hair tangling as Ginny prepared to ride out her orgasm once again.

"Ah! Yes!"

Ginny rubbed her way up and down Hermione's body, panting desperately as her sex glistened from their combined juices. Ginny held Hermione close now, never wanting to let her go. She wanted this. She wanted everything Hermione had to offer her and so much more. Whatever happened from this point on, Ginny would endeavour to make Hermione hers. No one else could have her, she was her only happiness in this world. And if you dared to take that from her then she would be honour bound to end your life, such was her infatuation with Hermione.

As their motions quickened, Hermione taking the lead and moving faster than Ginny considered humanly possible, the redhead started to feel a little surly. She felt weak, no doubt caused by the length of time they had been making out like this. But she wouldn't stop. Not until Hermione penetrated her and took away her virginity. She would not be satisfied until the woman she loved claimed her.

'_This isn't Hermione!'_

'_Get off her! You're raping her!'_

And then, for the first time since Hermione had fallen asleep, the brunette uttered something into the silence. Ginny had to strain her ears to listen, her attention rapt with eagerness as the woman she loved spoke. She heard the faint voice whisper something, it just hadn't registered properly yet.

"**Goodbye!"**

Surprised, Ginny looked into Hermione's closed eye lids. "Hermione?"

…

With another thrust from Hermione's hips Ginny suddenly felt something wash over her. S-She couldn't breathe. Panicked, Ginny tried to bring air into her lungs but was forced to gasp and splutter in response. Her mouth moved like a fish out of water, her face gradually turning purple.

Terror gripped Ginny in that moment, the feeling of drowning gnawing at her insides. Her vision followed seconds later, the image of Hermione distorted and blurry to her sore eyes. She recognised the movement of Hermione's tail above her but could not see it properly, it was just everywhere. Colours began to pull in on themselves, sounds becoming muffled to her ears.

Ginny's breath appeared shallow, the young redhead gripping her throat in her attempts to sooth the troubled area. It was a traumatising experience, feeling her breath fan over her body and yet not feeling any air enter her lungs. It was almost like her mind was separate from her body, she was breathing and yet she couldn't breathe.

Pain wracked her body, Ginny's hands clinging to Hermione's shoulders. She was scared. She was suffocating and all she saw were distorted images of Hermione who took no notice of her plight, continuing to hump her as she struggled for breath. What the hell was happening? The thoughts danced around her mind but never entered. A more desperate need had come across her, the need to survive.

Ginny tried to pull away from Hermione but her hands remained slack against the brunette's shoulders. Her body was limp, unresponsive to her wishes. She could barely grip anything with her fingers now but she saw the mark she had left on Hermione's shoulder. A bruise would surely form there but for the moment she did not have time to worry about that. She was suffocating. She was dying, and if she didn't escape this place she had no doubts that it would be the last things she ever saw.

And, as if things couldn't take a turn for the worst they suddenly did, in a dramatic way. As Ginny's resistance crumbled she sensed an uncomfortable tingling underneath her skin. Her eyes fell to her hands and the horror she saw almost made her weep. Wrinkles were spreading all over her skin, age setting upon her young bones. Her skin started to sag, old age lines settling onto her face as Ginny continued to hyperventilate. She felt exhausted, her body was aging and her mind was slipping away. Was this it? Was this the end?

'_No…'_

'_Not like this…'_

'_Please, don't let it end like this…'_

Ginny tried to move, willing her tired bones to respond to her pleas, but they never moved. She lay motionless against Hermione who appeared unfazed by the young redhead's plight. Why couldn't Hermione see what was happening? Was this the effect of the drug she took?

"H-Hermione… Please… Please… Stop… Hermione… No, n… Not like this… Hermione… Save… Me…"

It was too late now. The light was fading from her eyes. Her vision becoming pitch black as her breathing finally stilled. She was motionless, unresponsive. Hermione's actions happening somewhere far, far away. Ginny was gone. The darkness had taken her and she was never coming back.

…

Ginny was dead…

"N-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

…

A sudden burst of white light lit up the room, originating from the ceiling upon hearing the cries of its master. The room was now doused in intense sunlight, Ginny's body convulsing as the light wormed its way inside her very being. The sound of Hermione's cries rung around the room, reverberating inside the white room.

…

Hermione retreated from Ginny's form, retching as she fell on the pillow, her mind returning to the world of dreams upon contact. She was asleep. Had always been asleep. Unaware of the things that were happening around her. She would have no recollection of the events that led to this moment. There was nothing to remember for the brunette as she had played no part in the act.

Gasping and spluttering for air, Ginny rolled over and held her throat, the unmistakeable traces of finger prints warming her skin. The wrinkles were gone too as were the signs of aging that had settled itself upon Ginny's body moments ago. She gagged in the silence, saliva flowing out of her mouth onto the covers as she brought air back into her lungs. Her body shook, a cold shiver racing across her body as she collapsed against the mattress, her eyes turning to look at Hermione on the other side of the bed.

'_What have I done…?'_

Pain wracking her body, Ginny held her stomach. She felt the burning flesh beneath her touch, the unease that swam within her stomach. She was burning up in a serious way, sweat trickling from her body thick and fast. But none of that seemed to matter. All her thoughts were concentrated on the girl beside her. On the one person she had hurt beyond reason. Hermione.

'_I… I…'_

'_I just raped my best friend…'_

'_I-I knew she was under the influence of a drug and I… I…'_

'_I raped her!'_

Crying out, Ginny held her hands against her head and felt the sobs wrack her body. She was shivering. The guilt was churning her stomach inside and out. And she deserved every last second of it. She had just taken advantage of Hermione and as a result the spell had almost killed her. If anyone else had done that to her best friend she would have torn them limb from limb, faced Azkaban a million times over. But… But she was the one who had harmed her. She was the one who had used Hermione.

"H-Hermione!" Ginny cried, looking towards her best friend. "I-I'm… Sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Feeling sick with herself, Ginny slid off the bed and turned away from Hermione. She didn't deserve to see her naked body, didn't deserve any apology that the brunette might offer. Her crime was unmistakeable; she had just fucked her best friend while she was under the influence. In essence, she had raped her. She might not have bought the drug that affected Hermione but she certainly took full advantage of it.

Holding her knees to her chest, her arms circling and pulling them closer to her, Ginny started to cry. She cried unashamedly, the cries resembling that of a woman who had just learnt of the death of their own child. Nothing could keep her tears at bay. Ginny cried, sobs tearing her small body as she wailed into the silence.

"Hermione! I-I'm sorry! Please!" Ginny cried, head buried in her arms, hands gripping her hair. "I'm a monster. How could I do that to her! She's my best friend… My best friend!"

…

As she continued to wail into her arms, another set of arms wrapped around her, a body pressing against her back. Ginny turned in its location and all sound left her when she saw the cause of the interruption. It was Hermione. Hermione was sitting behind Ginny, her legs resting either side of the younger girl's body as her arms embraced her.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, her head turning to get a better view of the brunette. "I'm so sorry. I didn't… I'm so sorry. Please… Forgive me. Please. I know I don't deserve it but I… I… I don't want to lose you."

Hermione looked at her puzzled, Ginny continued. "Please! I'll… I'll never hurt you again. I'll never lay a hand on you for as long as I live. So please… Please don't send me away. Don't hate me! Please forgive me!"

"What are you talking about, Ginny?" Hermione replied, looking at Ginny, troubled. "There is nothing to forgive. You are my best friend and besides… you've done nothing wrong."

Shocked by this, Ginny turned fully in Hermione's embracing, her eyes rising to the brunette's. Her eyes showed no signs of contempt, of hatred or even loathing. They were concerned. For who? For her. That couldn't be. She didn't deserve that look after what she had just done. Ginny knew what she was; a monster. A sick and twisted monster who deserved to be named and shamed by her best friend.

And yet… she only looked at her in concern?

"What are you talking about? After I… I…" Ginny stilled, unable to say the words that came to mind. She wasn't strong enough to own up and admit that she had raped her, so she went in a different direction instead. "I hurt you, Mione. I took advantage of you when you need me most. How could you tell me I've done nothing wrong? I…"

'_Wait…'_

'_What?'_

Fully comprehending Hermione's appearance, Ginny blanched. She… She wasn't naked any more. Hermione was fully clothed, wearing the same t-shirt and shorts that she had used to go to bed. How was that even possible? Weren't they melted off of her body?

Looking down Ginny noticed that she still remained unclothed, her inner thighs stained by her arousal. Thankfully, Hermione wasn't aware of this as Ginny's legs were closed together. She would have to ensure she did not open her legs in Hermione's presence, the redhead would have to wait until later to slip into the bathroom. Ginny did not want to shame herself any more than she already had. Especially not in front of Hermione.

"Eh, Mione?" Ginny interjected.

"Hmm?"

"When did you put your clothes back on? I-I didn't hear you say an incantation or anything."

Laughing at this response, Hermione embraced the younger girl once more. Ginny becoming stiff and motionless in the brunette's hold. Her eyes wide once again as she accepted the contact that she never expected to feel again.

"You really are in a funny mood today. I went to bed in these, remember." Hermione replied.

"Well, yeah, but…"

Shaking her head at Ginny's startled expression, Hermione continued. "Did you have a nightmare? Is that why you look so frazzled?"

Looking at Hermione, Ginny stuttered. "N-Nightmare?"

"Yeah, from the way you were crying I'd have to say it was a particularly horrible one."

"A nightmare." Ginny replied, repeating the word as if to locate its meaning.

"Ginny?"

It was a nightmare. That was all it was. Ginny had experienced a truly terrifying nightmare and simply confused fantasy with reality. It all made sense. She would never have harmed Hermione, not in a million years. Ginny truly believed that, that no matter what, she would protect her best friend in her moment of need. Which means everything, everything she had cried over, had been nothing more than a dream.

"Hermione," Ginny exclaimed, hope returning to her features. "I-I would never hurt you, you… you know that, right?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course. I trust you more than anyone else in this world, Ginny. Perhaps more than Harry and Ron, even."

They hugged, Ginny's embrace growing tighter by the second as she let her grief wash away. "I-I trust you too, Mione. More than anyone in the world."

Laughing once again, Hermione held onto her best friend. The moment was ruined, however, when the brunette suddenly groaned unexpectedly. Alarmed by this, Ginny relinquished her hold and look at Hermione in worry.

"It's three in the morning."

Ginny followed Hermione's eyes that settled on the clock and frowned. Hadn't it been half-two when she was about to fall asleep? Did that mean she had only managed half an hour sleep?

"We should probably go back to bed." Hermione smiled, pulling Ginny up to her feet and directing her under the covers.

As Ginny slipped under, Hermione wrapped an arm around her. Surprised by the contact Ginny turned to look at her friend, the embrace welcomed but unexpected all the same. Hermione merely smiled at Ginny's puzzled look, hugging her tightly.

"Just in case you have any more nightmares. It's something my mum used to do when I was little. Helped me quite a bit."

Nodding in understanding Ginny decided to let her suspicions die down. She was being hugged by Hermione after all. There was no better feeling and she was going to enjoy the moment for as long as possible.

Laying her head down, Ginny settled to sleep and Hermione followed shortly after. Both said their goodnights and eventually succumbed to slumber. They would sleep soundly tonight…

…

…

And yet while they both slept something swished backwards and forwards above their head. A long, thin tail swaying this way and that. The memories of their night together vanishing once the tail made contact with their heads. The Succubus was wiping away all remnants of their night, all the suspicions that they had… evaporating in one fell swoop.

The Succubus was finally ready. It was time… to play.

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Author's Note: Hello everyone. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter because boy was it difficult to write. I honestly don't know what happened. I had a plan and then new ideas came to mind as I was writing (I.e. the tail scenes) and I just had to put them in. It might have made the story disjointed though, and overly long but during editing I couldn't stop refining things. It made a chapter that was supposed to have a word limit of 5,000 reach around 10,000.

Hopefully you were satisfied with it. I myself am a little hesitant to post it but have to because I'll be a little busy over the next week or so.

Alright now onto the important stuff. I have listened to everyone I could about the subject of futanari being included in this story and, unsurprisingly, the vote is split 50/50.

Many of you want this to stay female/female with no penises involved, which is completely understandable. I am, after all, writing to an audience who came here to see female characters connect with female characters. The prospect of male extremities being added to characters is not one you would like to envision. You want sexual situations to be natural, occurring between female characters who appear just as god made them.

And then there are others who would not mind the idea of a female character being penetrated by a futanari character. Who would even go so far as to plead for me to include it, in reviews and on my personal message board.

I was at an unsettling impasse until someone, a FanFic reader named Yuri-Hime-Chan, made a suggestion that might have solved my problem for me. You saw it in this chapter, in fact. Hermione's tail. Why that thought had escaped me, I will never know. It's shocking since when you type Succubus into a search engine you get pictures of women with tails.

Anyway, I believe this will satisfy both parties because it is not a male extremity and it will allow more variety in sexual scenes, I.e. penetration etc. I have a vivid imagination and that will only be helped by having something else to play with, eh, so to speak. God, even writing that sounded terrible.

So, I am adding this to the possibilities for inclusion into the story, the options are;

A) Futanari

B) Normal sex scenes

C) Penetration by tail

The choice is yours once again. Simply send me a message or review and I'll add it to my tally.

Also, many of you might have questions as to what will happen to Hermione now that she has made another woman reach orgasm. Remember, that was the one thing Hermione needed to avoid because the Succubus could overcome her if she did something like that. Well, your answers to that questions will come soon.

As will the introduction of everyone's favourite BeauBaxton student (Not in the next chapter but the one after it) I feel like I have to mention her now because everyone is so desperate to see her. My personal messages are littered with questions about… her. Truthfully, she was supposed to show up in the fourth chapter of this story but I scrapped that plan for another. You'll see why her inclusion was delayed in the twelfth chapter, and hopefully you'll understand the need for the delay. It is something I have been toying with for a long time, and I think I finally have the idea sorted in my mind :D

Anyway, I've written far too much yet again. So I'll quickly mention when the next chapter will be published. The next chapter will be published in two to three weeks. I'm going to enjoy my upcoming holiday and relax for a little bit before writing again. But don't worry, the next chapter will be worth the wait as you will get to see one of the OC's in all her glory. Many of you will be happy to see her I am sure.

Reviews would be very much appreciated from any who offer them, and I should be able to respond to your review within the week.

Okay then, all the best guys and gals, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Byeeeeeeeeee

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P.S. To all those who have asked; my original story is going very well at the moment. The plan has been completed now, with the help of my co-writer, and we are thinking of writing it out during the holidays. Should be an interesting couple of weeks as the concept of the story is very different from this one and yet still has one small connection. That connection being the inclusion of a magical creature, in this case a Siren. I won't say anymore for fear of spilling my secrets out and having my idea stolen but I have high hopes for this story. Well I've kept you up to date now. I'll give you more info when any comes about :D


	12. Chapter 11: Desire and Temptation

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 11: Desire and Temptation

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

**Author's Note:** Please read the final Author's Note at the bottom of this page after you have read the chapter. It has information concerning the sex scenes that will be used in this story. Please do not read it before the chapter as it will ruin the introduction of a new love interest. Thank you very much and I hope you enjoy the chapter :D

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It was near daybreak when Hermione stirred. The faint rays of sunlight slipping through the curtains enough to wake the brunette from her slumber. Groaning, Hermione turned to lie on her back, eyes staring lazily at the ceiling.

_Eh?_

_Oh, the ceilings doing its thing again._

Eyes now focused, Hermione watched as an assortment of colours merged into each other, a purple liquid ebbing to the surface like paint in water. It was quite a sight to wake up to so early in the morning. Although the mystery as to how – and why – it did this still continued to evade her vast wealth of knowledge. No matter. There were other ways to gain comprehension of such mysteries. The School Library, for one, would no doubt have the answers she sought.

Leaning back against the headboard, Hermione sighed. She was back. Hogwarts. Her home away from home. The simple thought of losing herself in research and study brought colour to her cheeks. She couldn't wait. Much like how Harry and Ron breathed and lived Quidditch; Hermione felt the very same zest of life for knowledge. Then again; the thought of socialising with friends and others of her age was, in itself, a blessing of sorts.

Unfortunately – due, in part, to her schooling in the magical world – Hermione didn't have much in the way of friends back home. In truth, the only people she talked to or spent time with were her parents. She had no friends to speak of, or former classmates who would even remember her name. And Hermione allowed the distance to happen. Welcomed it even. She was leaving everything to be a part of the magical world… everything except her family. And even that bond of familial love might not survive the passage of time and separation.

Rubbing her sore eyes, Hermione stretched, moaning as every bone in her body clicked and shifted in unison. She felt... a little strange this morning. Not strange in a bad way, mind you, but… in a good way. On most occasions, when she woke early, Hermione would have to battle against her inner desire to fall back to sleep. It was a little known fact but Hermione hated mornings. She just couldn't handle them. Every morning she would feel like the living dead, dragging her feet to the girl's bathroom in much the same way a zombie would.

But not tonight…?

Today, she felt wide awake… wired even. Everything she touched sent electricity shooting through her body. Every thought caused her synapses to fire at remarkable speeds. There was no hangover from sleep deprivation, no drowsiness.

She felt… good, great even. Awake and alive to the world for the first morning in years. The only comparison that Hermione could draw upon was when her mind worked into overdrive while researching in the library. But it was happening now.

How strange…?

Sitting up, Hermione looked around at her surroundings. Ginny was still asleep, tucked in at her side. Her expression unmarred by fear or sadness, a look that Hermione had seen first-hand the night before. She looked calm now, her breathing even. Heart racing, Hermione moved a lock of hair from Ginny's cheek.

To think, the night before, this very person was looking at her in fear?

What's more, Hermione knew this was her fault. She was the cause of what must have been a terrible dream. That knowledge alone caused guilt to rage inside her. Ginny was clearly worried about something that involved her, and yet she could not fathom the reason behind it. The fear Ginny exhibited was akin to that of losing a close friend.

But, that couldn't have been the case! She loved Ginny and would never leave her, not in a million years.

And yet, despite this very obvious fact, Ginny had pleaded with her not to leave. Ginny had looked at her with tears in her eyes, her body trembling. Why? Why did she sound so terrified last night? To the point of being almost inconsolable. Where had the usually cocky redhead gone in that moment?

"…"

Sometimes Hermione forgot that she was the eldest of the two. That Ginny was supposed to be her junior. Hermione had never really taken notice of these labels before as Ginny was just… Ginny; a wonderful friend who was charming and confident beyond her years. Someone who brought a bit of – dare she say – fun into her life.

That was right. Ginny had never truly been her junior, or shown any signs of worry or weakness in their time together. Everything should have been fine. And yet the confident redhead had pleaded with her to stay, out of nowhere. Completely blind siding her.

Why did Ginny feel like Hermione was leaving her…?

Had these fears grown to such an extent that they affected her dreams…?

It was a well-known fact that the majority of bad dreams were caused by the fears that festered in a subjects mind. A fear that they could not overcome alone. So, it begged the question… What did Ginny fear?

Did Ginny fear some sort of separation?

Was that all this was?

Was Ginny under some misguided belief that she was going to ignore her friend? Had she acted in a manner that warranted this kind of reaction? Surely not. She had always made sure to spend time with Ginny as well as Harry and Ron, the three people she trusted with her life and happiness.

Although, now that she thought about it, her focus last year had been primarily centred on study and research for the Tri-Wizard tournament. So… She hadn't spent a lot of time with Ginny recently. In fact, they rarely spoke last year. But surely Ginny knew that was just a one off.

…

…

No, she was lying. The distance between the two wouldn't be a one off, now, would it?

Not since Rose came into her life and turned her world upside down.

Regardless of whether Rose spoke the truth, Hermione's body – her mind – **was** changing. Since the kiss, Hermione had felt different. Her body had filled out to a very desirable shape, curves in all the right places. Although the young brunette tried to hide it by wearing robes or baggy clothing while out in public. Her eye sight had improved, strength too. Her sense of taste was also different, heightened.

Rather worryingly, Hermione's desire for women had not only emerged but escalated beyond her control. Without her say so, Hermione could feel her eyes gravitate towards any beautiful woman that passed in her vicinity. Whether teacher or student – regardless of age or ethnicity – Hermione could feel arousal course through her system as she watched them.

Every touch from a male hand felt repulsive. And yet, every touch she felt from her own sex succeeded in setting a fire in her belly. The urge to take that hand and place it lower down her body becoming harder to resist with each transgression.

…

What if Ginny touched her…?

What would happen then…?

…

No, she wouldn't… S-She couldn't. Ginny was her best friend, someone she cared about deeply. It wouldn't be right. Ginny would feel ashamed and humiliated. Their friendship severed upon the mere utterance of romantic intent. No… no. She would protect Ginny from this – from her – no matter what.

"…"

But the only way to truly protect Ginny… To ensure her safety… Was to create distance between them…

And that was something Hermione couldn't do!

Not now, not after Ginny had begged her to stay, to never leave her side…

… She couldn't just leave.

…

What was she supposed to do?

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

"…"

Disturbed by the nearby source of movement, Hermione turned, watching as Ginny groaned and yawned into her pillow. A mess of red hair being all she could see from her vantage point. It was at that moment that all previous thoughts of separation vanished from her mind. How could they remain after what she had just seen?

Attempting to control herself, Hermione bit into her lower lip and looked away. The sight laid out before her was too much to take, she had to control her urges.

_Oh my god…_

_Ginny!_

_Your hair…_

_It's… It's… _

Unaware of her awful bedhead, Ginny looked up at Hermione, eyes fluttering as it became accustomed to the morning light. "What?"

"Hmm?" Hermione replied, her face inching away from view.

"What's so funny?"

Chocking back the rising tide, Hermione checked her fingernails before responding. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"You're lying," Ginny groaned, falling back on her pillow dramatically. "Go on. Just say it. I know you've seen it already."

"… I don't know what you're talking about?"

Sighing, Ginny sat up. "Yes, you do. Now c'mon, out with it. Quit stalling. I have a pillow and I am not afraid to use it."

"Oh, scary," Hermione mocked. "What are you going to do? Make my hair as mad as yours?"

Swatting Hermione's forearm, Ginny pushed herself back against the headboard and gave the young brunette a stern look. "Don't give me ideas, Miss Granger. You won't like the results."

Grinning like an enthusiastic toddler, Hermione nudged the sleepy redhead. "Come on, Ginny. If it's any consolation my hair probably looks as crazy as yours."

"What are you talking about," Ginny yawned, giving the brunette an odd look. "Your hair looks nice… Sleek even."

"My… What?" Hermione murmured, surprised by the statement.

Ignoring Hermione's words, Ginny continued unabated. "You've got to stop with all these doubts. Have a bit more confidence. Appreciate yourself more."

"Eh, Ginny? What are you talking about?"

Turning in Hermione's direction, Ginny rolled her eyes. God, she loved her best friend but there were times when Hermione's lack of confidence really grated on her. To Ginny, Hermione was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. She thought this even before these… feelings… came to the surface. To say otherwise was blasphemous. Why could Hermione not recognise her own beauty? Why did she have to find fault when none was to be had.

"I'm talking about your hair. I like it. It looks good alright. I know how long it takes to tame, and how much you dislike it, but the time was worth the effort. Trust me."

"Eh, Ginny," Hermione piped up, hands rising to her own hair. "I haven't applied anything yet. I just woke up."

"Bullshit! There's no way you look that good after waking up. You're the smartest witch of your age… Not the luckiest woman alive. Now…"

As Ginny spoke Hermione's hands stilled. The lock in her hand, it felt… soft and straight. What the hell was going on? Pulling a strand of hair in front of her eyes, Hermione inspected it. The texture was smooth, not a single tangled hair to be seen.

Looking towards the bathroom Hermione stood up from the bed and sidled towards it. Ginny's features souring as she realised her best friend had completely ignored her. The nerve!

"Not cool, Hermione. Not cool at all."

Unaware of her friend's words, Hermione looked into the bathroom mirror and her mouth dropped instantly. "What the fuck?!"

"Oi, language. I'm still a minor, you know." Ginny murmured, a sleepy yawn escaping her lips once again.

"…"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her hair… It was… It was… the best she had ever seen it. Coaxing her fingers through every strand of hair, Hermione smiled. It felt wonderful, smoother than she had ever thought possible. Realising she had an audience, Hermione turned and shut the door.

"Oh, come on!" Ginny moaned, a pillow slamming against the door. "Let me see!"

Laughing at her reflection, Hermione fanned her fingers through her hair again and again. With every pass of her fingers, Hermione's smile widened. Not a single tangled hair could be found on her head. The volume of her hair was different too, the colour a slightly darker shade of brown then she was used to. A small glimmer of light streaked down her hair caused by the light directly above her.

_Huh?_

_Maybe being a Succubus might have its uses after all._

As Hermione spent time admiring her new look – relishing in the prospect of not having to deal with her hair anymore – Ginny's voice wandered through the door.

"Eh, Hermione?"

"Yes, Ginny." Hermione drawled, Ginny's voice far too sweet for her liking.

"Could you bring back my pillow when you come back? I miss it terribly."

Laughing, Hermione stepped out of the bathroom and hurled the pillow back at Ginny. The young redhead was ill prepared for this and could only tumble off the bed as the pillow collided with the side of her head. A strangled gasp leaving the redhead's lips as she rolled to the floor.

Rather than show concern for her friend, Hermione skipped to the other side of the bed and kneeled in front of the redhead. "Oops! My bad! Thought you would catch it seeing as you are a Chaser and all."

Ginny, seeing stars and constellations in her vision, shook her head. "I will have you know that I am an excellent Chaser… during the day. But in the morning I am sloth."

Reaching out a hand in greeting, Hermione shook it with a bemused expression.

"Eh, Ginny?"

"No. I am Sloth. Ginny will be back momentarily."

Laughing – for what felt like the fifteenth time in as many minutes – Hermione pulled Ginny to her feet before wrapping her arms around the young redhead's shoulder. A small smile reaching her lips as her small frame fit perfectly in her arms. The heat spreading to Hermione's cheeks as she held the young girl tighter by the second.

Eyes widening at the contact, Ginny stood completely still, mouth opening and closing in question. Then, with no prior warning, Hermione started to spin her around, laughing happily while Ginny could only stare at the revolving scenery in confusion.

_What the hell?_

"Eh? Okay! Ginny is back! Ginny is back! You can let me go now!"

Dropping Ginny back to her feet, Hermione stretched her limbs and walked to the nearby window. Never once noticing the bemused expression that was now stuck on her best friend's face. Ginny, now breathless, could only watch as Hermione marched to the lone window in the room – sighing happily as she looked out of it. Then, after a few quiet moments, Hermione turned and skipped towards the nearby dresser, passing Ginny without a single word.

_Okay…?_

_Something is definitely up._

Walking towards the brunette, Ginny looked around the room, looking for any reason as to why Hermione would be acting this way. There had to be something. The Hermione she knew did not take it upon herself to skip and dance around the room.

Maybe there was an elixir or potion nearby that Hermione had accidentally drank from? Yes, that would explain her cheerful behaviour. That must have been the answer to this illogical conundrum.

_Hmm? _

_Should I throw caution to the wind and rush her to the School nurse then? _

"Hermione?"

"Yes!" Said person replied, smile widening as she caught sight of the beautiful Ginny.

"Um, are you okay?"

Puzzled, Hermione placed her skirt against a nearby chair, eyeing Ginny curiously. "Okay? Of course I'm okay. In fact, I'm feeling better than ever."

"Really?"

"Yep!"

Tapping her foot impatiently, arms crossed, Ginny nodded to herself and placed a hand against the brunette's forehead. "Hm? No temperature. You sure you're alright?"

"Never better."

Smiling, Hermione skipped away towards the bathroom with her uniform in toe. Ginny's disbelieving eyes resting on the dresser as she contemplated this new and unfamiliar predicament.

_Hermione has never been this lively in the mornings,_ Ginny thought, _I was always the one who had to drag her out of bed at the Burrow._

None of this made any sense.

…

Coughing into her open palms, Ginny stroked her sore throat, her hands throbbing at the movement. God, her body ached. Every cell, every fibre of her body hurt, even the simple act of breathing was causing slight discomfort. As if matters weren't bad enough, she was also running a high temperature but hadn't noticed it till now. Maybe she really did overdo it in last week's Weasley Quidditch tournament?

Smiling at the memory of her victory, Ginny looked back towards the dresser. Her eyes widening immediately upon glimpsing sight of her own reflection in the dressing room mirror. To say the sight was far from pleasing would have been an understatement in Ginny's eyes. She looked horrible. Tired, almost withered features looking back at her. The unmistakeable signs of heavy bags under her eyes were also hard to miss. Her lips chaffed and sore to the lightest touch, for whatever reason. Her skin looked a little pale too. Strange as she spent most of her time outdoors in the sun?

_God!_

_I look hideous!_

Of course, if you were to ask Hermione or any other boy in the entire School whether Ginny looked 'hideous' at this moment, all would have said a resounding NO! But Ginny was secretly very touchy about her appearance. She wanted to look good. After all, Hermione had complimented her on her appearance last summer. How could she not wish to maintain this look when she received such valued compliments?

"Ginny?"

Startled, Ginny turned to face Hermione, fully clothed in her Gryffindor colours. "Oh, H-Hermione." Ginny muttered, rushing fingers through her hair to flatten it. "I-I didn't hear you come in."

"I could tell. Showers ready if you want it?"

Turning crimson, Ginny nodded and hurried to the bathroom. Hermione's eyes watching her leave as she licked her lips, enjoying the sight despite her best intentions.

"I'll leave your clothes on the dresser. Come out when you're ready and when you've finished dressing; we can have breakfast in the Great Hall."

_Very, very strange,_ Ginny muttered. _Hermione rarely comes down for breakfast. Maybe I should rush her to Madam Pomfrey after all._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

_._

_._

Making their way through the School halls Hermione took the lead, Ginny dragging her feet as she followed behind. That shower had done her a world of good. She felt better, still a little ill and her body felt strangely drained of energy, but on the whole she felt like her usual self. Hermione, meanwhile, was still on her strange high, walking with a hop and a skip to her step, hands held behind her back.

"Come on Ginny. We'll be late for Breakfast at this rate. Move your little butt."

"Okay," Ginny stopped, hand rising in front of Hermione. "One, we are the first ones up in the entire School. So we couldn't possibly be late. Two, real breakfast doesn't start for another hour. Everyone knows that you're supposed to turn up an hour late. And three… I do not have a little butt thank you very much!"

"Enough talk, come on."

Completely ignoring Ginny's previous comments, Hermione gripped the young redhead's hand and led them down a flight of stairs. Ginny followed, gripping Hermione's hand and pulling her back when she attempted to jump to the retreating platform. Hermione merely smirked, winking as she turned her attention to the next staircase.

_Oh My God!_

_Are you trying to seduce me?_

_Because I will ravish you on this staircase in front of the entire School if you keep this up._

Walking down another flight of stairs, Ginny shook her head. She couldn't understand Hermione's sudden change in attitude. Nothing remarkable had happened the night before, or even the day before. So, what the hell was Hermione smiling about?

Unable to hold her tongue, Ginny spoke. "How are you so bright and chipper this early in the morning?"

"…" Hermione shrugged noncommittally.

"You hate mornings! I know you do. So, don't even try to tell me otherwise."

Laughing, Hermione turned to face Ginny as she descended the stairs. "I don't know. I can't explain it. Maybe I'm just happy to be back? Maybe I just like a change in routine? Or, maybe… it's the company?"

Feeling Hermione's grip tighten, Ginny greeted the brunette's smile with one of her own. She would not be dissuaded, however, by such an act and quickly rounded on her senior. "Ha-ha, very funny! I know something happened, and that you are keeping it from me, Mione."

"Nothing happened, Ginny. I'm just… feeling very happy. Can't you be satisfied with that?"

Biting her lip, Ginny nodded, following Hermione as she slowed her pace. "I am. I'm relieved actually. Haven't seen you this upbeat in a while. It's a good look for you," Looking around her vicinity, Ginny leaned forward towards Hermione.

"If you are not careful I might just move into your room if it means I can get to see you looking so happy."

Giggling behind her hand, Hermione smiled at the possibility, calming herself before she spoke again. "I know I wouldn't say no to that. There is always a space beside my bed waiting for you, Ginny. You're welcome to it any time."

"You're talking about the floor, aren't you?" Ginny deadpanned. Ignoring Hermione's increasing laughter, the redhead continued. "It's funny. On the day that you are so cheerful and happy, I am absolutely exhausted and sick. I can't even enjoy this moment because I'm… I'm… 'Achoo'… sneezing all the time."

Concerned, Hermione took another look at Ginny. Her pale features drawing her attention. She didn't look like her usual, vibrant, self today. Before she could say anything, another sneeze shook the younger girl's body. Ginny had been doing that a lot on their way to the Great Hall. It was starting to worry her.

"You know… Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey."

"Looks who's talking." Ginny muttered under her breath, walking through the doors of the Great Hall.

As they stepped inside both girls made their way towards the Gryffindor table, mouths watering as they eyed the food already on display. There were only a handful of students sitting to eat, mostly Ravenclaws shifting through food and books, occasionally getting them mixed up. Though no sign of Slytherin yet, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were present but not a single Slytherin could be seen. Unsurprising as they were considered the laziest of the four houses.

Sitting down to eat, Ginny took two slices of bread and a bottle of jam from the table – satisfied with her endeavour. Her attempts to spread the jam over her bread were forgotten, however, when she saw the assortment of foods that littered Hermione's plate. Sausages, eggs, bacon, bread, chicken, croissants, pana chocolates, what looked like a ringed doughnut, baked beans, Weetabix and not forgetting the large pancakes were piled on top of one another. Ginny eyes expanded, stomach rumbling in respect.

"Eh, Ron? Could you remove yourself from Hermione's body?" Ginny said, a hint of truth rising in her words.

"What? Come on. I'm really hungry. And this is nothing compared to what Ron eats."

Shaking her head, Ginny ignored Hermione. Ignored how she gouged herself on the food like a starving animal, ignored how everyone in the room had their mouths open as they watched Hermione breath in her food. Ignored the clatter of cutlery as a nearby Ravenclaw dropped her fork, her mouth biting around a rather tasty looking book.

This wasn't happening? There was no way Hermione could eat all this, and yet here she was dwarfing every last bit. And…

_Oh God… _

_No!_

_NOOOOOOOO! _

_Don't do that!_

_Do not ever… EVER lick your lips like that again!_

Taking a moment to compose herself, Ginny looked towards her breakfast and began to eat.

"GINNY! What are you doing?!"

Surprised by the interruption, Ginny almost dropped her bread on the floor before turning towards the source of the commotion. Upon inspection she watched in astonishment as a number of Gryffindor's sprinted past the doors of the Great Hall - one solitary girl staying behind to wave in her direction. Confused, Ginny looked towards Hermione who merely shrugged noncommittally before returning to her second helping of chicken.

_You lucky piece of chicken!_

_What I wouldn't give to be eaten out by…_

… _Wait, what?_

"Ginny!"

Shaking her head, Ginny refocused on the approaching Gryffindor, realising it was a friend from her year. Confused by her state of duress, Ginny arched an eye brow.

"Hello, Susie. What can I do for you?"

Breathing deeply after such a long run, Susie laid a hand on Ginny's shoulder. Ginny eying her questioningly at the act.

Little did Suzie or Ginny know but directly beside them sat a silently enraged Hermione Granger. The Brunette's eyes resting on Suzie's hand which dared to touch her… her… her best friend. The juice from the jam doughnut slipping over her hand as she crushed it.

"Ginny?! What the hell are you thinking!? We have to go now!?"

Being pulled against her will Ginny quickly pushed away her friend's hand. She did not like to be handled this way, no matter the situation. "Suzie? What are you talking about? What's going on?"

Disbelief rising to the young blonde's features, Suzie crossed her arms in front of her chest. "What's going on!? What's going on!? I'll tell you what's going on!? Professor Snape! That is what's going on!"

"Snape? What about him? We haven't got Potions for another hour?"

Sighing, her head shaking from side to side as she rubbed her forehead, Suzie pointed to Ginny's bag. "Look in your diary."

"My diary?"

"Yes!" Suzie drawled, hands tearing at her hair. "Look in your diary and you will see the reason for my anger!"

Doing as instructed, Ginny placed her breakfast on the plate and fished out her diary from within the confines of her bag. Looking at Suzie one last time, she opened her diary. Her eyes widening as she scanned the first page. She now saw the reason for Suzie's discomfort.

"We have potions… now! What the fuck!? Last night it wasn't till nine?"

"Yeah," Suzie sighed, ignoring her friends who called her from the entrance way. "He changed it late last night."

"You're fucking kidding me!" Shaking her head, Ginny fumed. "That shrivelled up piece of sh…"

Distracted by a taping to her left, Ginny turned towards Hermione, a warm smile plastered on the brunette's face. All worries began to melt away in an instant despite the seriousness of the situation. But that was just the effect Hermione had on her. She always knew what to do when the need rose, always had just the right things to say to calm her when in distress. That would never change. And she was grateful for it.

…

"Can I have your jam sandwich?"

Ginny blanched at the unexpected response from her favourite brunette, eyes rising to Suzie for confirmation that what had been said had actually been said. When she received no word in reply, Ginny sighed, grabbing her bag as Suzie sprinted towards the exit. She needed to go but Ginny promised… she would not forget this most cruel of betrayals.

"This is not over!" Ginny shouted, sprinting after Suzie and through the door of the Great Hall.

…

…

"So? Is that a yes?"

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

It was an hour later and Hermione still remained seated in the Great Hall, nursing her belly which was now filled to capacity. The strange ebb of happiness and enjoyment had rubbed off quite some time ago. In fact it had gone away the moment Ginny had left her side. She was back to being the usual Hermione now and, for that reason, the memories of her antics this morning caused quite a reaction. Without need for a mirror, Hermione could tell that her face was bright red.

Harry and Ron hadn't made it down to breakfast yet so Hermione busied herself talking to Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnegan. The former striking up a quite fascinating conversation about the appearance of freed elves protesting outside the Ministry of Magic. Apparently they demanded that their garments be taken away from them and burnt so that they could return to their masters. Hermione couldn't believe her ears when she learned of this.

Why would the house elves do such a thing?

Didn't they want their freedom..?

…

As the talk turned to Quidditch, Hermione's mind began to wander – much like it did when the word Quidditch was spoken. Her eyes wandered the expanse of the Great Hall never resting on anything for too long…

…

That was until they settled on a familiar figure walking her way into the Great Hall.

…

All sound ceased, her breath hitching as the student walked alongside her colleagues, shining brighter than the rest.

_Wow!_

She couldn't help herself. With every stride Hermione's eyes would focus in on her flushed yet ripe thighs. With every movement of her torso Hermione would watch the slim contours of her body as her hips swayed. She was gorgeous, unique and perfectly proportioned to such an extent that even a professional model would grit her teeth in envy. The form fitting clothing did nothing to quell the arousal that spiked inside her. Nor the sight of those plump… delicious… heavenly looking lips.

_Oh God!_

_Those…_

_Those lips…_

All thoughts ceased. Memories of the girl's legs, her body and clothing were no longer relevant. Only her lips. Unbeknown to her, Hermione's hand began to move towards her hip as the girl in question laughed at some joke that never registered in the brunette's mind. But she didn't care. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Just her lips.

Hermione could only imagine what they tasted like. How soft and supple they must have felt if pressed against her own. With one gentle tug Hermione had no doubt she would be drowned in a sea of bliss. And, oh, how badly she wanted to tug at that lip of hers between her teeth.

Hermione's hand came to rest on her thigh before drifting towards the place that needed her utmost attention. She couldn't stop her progress. Couldn't deny this feeling that was taking over her entire thought process. The urge was almost… primal. The thought of walking up to the girl, slamming her against the table and having her way with her lips was almost too much to handle. Her hand was inching closer now, slipping beneath the edge of her panties.

_Oh God!_

_How did I never realise!_

_Those lips…_

_I want them…_

_I need them…_

Breathing heavily, Hermione's hand glided over the wisps of pubic hair. Those lips still the only thing visible to her naked eye. God, they looked ripe. Her heart suddenly thundered in her chest as she watched a row of stunning white teeth press down on the delicate, pliant flesh. Hermione almost kicked the table at the sight but somehow managed to keep her cool. She was so close. So very close.

_When did she become this…_

_Enticing…_

_When did Cho Chang become this sexy?_

…

…

"Hermione?"

"Oi, Hermione!? Wake up!?"

Jerking her hand out of her panties, Hermione stared at the two figures sitting across from her. It was Harry and Ron. Both looked at her in concern, Ron's plate untarnished by food. Looking between the two, the feeling of moisture staining her fingers, Hermione blushed crimson. Eyes widening as she realised what she had been doing in front of the entire School.

"Hermione? What the hell's wrong with you?" Ron asked.

"What? I, um…"

"You were staring into space. Ignoring us completely."

Relieved to hear this piece of information, Hermione nodded franticly before reaching for a nearby napkin. She had to clean her hand, it was… well, it just had to be cleaned. No need to go into detail about the reasons why. That would be too embarrassing.

Smiling at the pair, Hermione refocused her attention. "Oh, sorry. My mind was miles away. I was just thinking about going to the library to pick up a book. I…"

Interrupting with a raised hand, Ron returned to his meal. "Say no more. I know you well enough to know where this is going."

Relieved, Hermione looked in the direction of Cho's last known position. Her heart sinking when she realised she was no longer there. Eyes refocusing on the Ravenclaw table, Hermione shifted through the students one by one until her eyes finally settled on her prize. There she was; Cho Chang. The Ravenclaw who had once sparked romantic interest in her best friend, Harry Potter. And she could hardly blame Harry, Cho Chang was an absolute beauty.

Battling against the wave of jealousy that formed when thoughts of Harry's lips on Cho's came to mind, Hermione gritted her teeth. It was stupid. She knew this. But the thought of Cho's lips being touched by someone else's was… disconcerting. They were so ripe. Harry was a lucky man to have touched something so… God, there wasn't even a word that perfectly captured Cho's lips.

Staring, Hermione shuffled to a nearby vacant seat so that she could get a better look at Cho. No one seemed to notice her strange behaviour, except for Harry who eyed her in concern. He tried to follow her line of sight but couldn't find anyone that warranted such close inspection. Believing the matter was not serious or hazardous to her health, Harry decided to let Hermione be.

…

Listening to the inane drivel of her friends, Cho Chang busied herself with looking around the Great Hall. When she gazed across the Gryffindor table she was surprised to see none other than Hermione Granger staring back at her. Eye brows arching in surprise, Cho shot the brunette a look.

The look froze Hermione in place, her mouth thin and hands clenched around the edge of the Gryffindor table. She's been caught ogling without a doubt. To Hermione's surprise, however, a small smile trickled its way up Cho's lips, a set of white teeth peeking through the natural curve of her lip. Hermione's heart quickened in response to this, heat rushing to all corners of her body.

…

Cho was no longer interested in the words her friends said. No longer cared about the food that had caused her stomach to growl in hunger. Hermione was looking at her. Odd as – in Cho's mind – she did not exist to the brunette. She was the ex of the boy who lived. Nothing more, nothing less. At least that's what she thought Hermione believed, but maybe she'd been wrong.

Sitting up in her seat, Cho leaned to her side – to get a better view of Hermione – and waved in her direction. It was an odd sight to say the least, Cho's upper body turned ninety degrees as she waved in what could only be described as a flirtatious manner. Cho had not intended it to be flirtatious of course but sexy people had a habit of making normal gestures look… incredibly sexy.

…

Meanwhile, across the hall, Hermione's eyes focused on Cho. The sight of the young Ravenclaw innocently - and cutely – waving to her had sent more heat rushing to her sex. In response Hermione pressed her knees together trying to stem the heat that pulsed within her. Taking a moment to compose herself, Hermione drew in a long shuddering breath. She needed to look away, Cho was… doing things to her. That damn smile should have been illegal.

_Just look down at your food…_

_Look down at your food…_

_Yes, that's right…_

_Keep looking…_

_Keep looking…_

…

Disgruntled to see Hermione break their eye contact, Cho sighed. She had scared the young brunette away without saying a single word. That must have been a new record for her. Why did she have to be so obvious? Had she been staring at Hermione like she had wanted to eat her?

_Well, that's just great_…

_My thoughts must have shown on my face yet again._

_Nice going, creep… _

_Congratulations! You did it again, Cho – Fucking – Chang!_

"So, Cho, what do you think?"

Surprised by the interruption, Cho turned towards the voice, a hand moving to wipe away the hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. Everyone was staring at her in wait. Leaning towards her as if her next words would be a new decree from god himself.

_Great, I ignored my fan girls, now what the hell am I supposed to do? _

"S-Sorry? I was miles away." Cho laughed, batting herself on the head with her first, her tongue poking out the side of her lip.

Everyone smiled and laughed as Cho knew they would.

…

Moving the food around her plate, Hermione chanced a look back in Cho's direction. She was talking with her friends, unaware that she was being stared at once again. A mixture of relief and disappointment washed over her as she watched Cho smile at some second year she had never seen before.

_What a lucky second year. _

Oh well, there wasn't much she could do about that. Cho wasn't her property after all. She could so whatever she liked.

Picking up her glass of orange juice, with a sigh, Hermione took several gulps.

…

With every lull in the conversation Cho's eyes would sweep over to Hermione, every chance she had she took not caring if she were caught by her friends. Or anyone for that matter. The young brunette seemed unaware of her pin point stare, too concerned with the contents of her drink to look up in Cho's direction. Cho watched Hermione's throat as it constricted to allow the liquid to rush through…

_J-Jesus!_

_I-Is it hot in here or is it just me…?_

Eyes unable to look away, Cho fingered the half-filled glass in front of her. A bead of sweat rolling off her brow.

_God, that is sexy…_

_Really… Really… Sexy…_

_How can she look so sexy when drinking a simple glass of orange juice?_

She didn't know how it was possible but damn was it a sight to see.

…

Taking a moment to look back in Cho's direction – not expecting anything to come of it – Hermione almost sprayed the entire table when she saw those brown eyes looking back at her. Resting a hand against her mouth, Hermione forced herself to swallow the remaining liquid, tears coming to her eyes before she coughed and spluttered into the cuff of her sleeve.

Concerned, Harry and Ron reached over the table to help. Harry offering a nearby tissue while Ron – astute as always – offered his support with several hard whacks to her back.

Signalling for Ron to stop with a glare, Hermione eyed Cho nervously, praying she had not seen that embarrassing moment. With one look Hermione knew Cho had seen it. No, in fact, she was sure of it. The Ravenclaw could be seen fighting back a fit of giggles, a hand over her mouth as she laughed genuinely for the first time in months. Hermione's ears reddening as she caught sight of those teasing lips move in and out of sight.

_Look away…_

_Keep your cool…_

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As Hermione stared down at her plate – ignoring Cho completely – another sensation began to take root in the pit of her stomach. The feeling was rather unpleasant, like her abdomen was being tightened against her will. The effort of breathing suddenly becoming harder to manage. Something was coming, Hermione could feel it, and what's more, the reason for her distress felt like it was somewhere nearby.

_Don't look…_

_Don't look…_

_Don't look…_

_DON'T LOOK!_

Looking up, Hermione caught sight of the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Chloe Roberts, making her way down the aisle. She was greeting students as she passed by their tables, acting in a professional and friendly manner to all that approached her. Young girls watched Chloe's progress with eyes filled with admiration, their hero only a foot away.

The greetings continued as Chloe moved forward, her steps unimpeded… until she reached Hermione's table. The moment Chloe laid eyes on the brunette her footsteps came to a screeching halt. Then, within the span of a few seconds, Chloe's eyes widened and her arms jerked in surprise, her papers tumbling to the floor.

"…"

Shocked by her mishap, Chloe hurried to pick them up, kneeling against the floor as she scooped them to her chest. Feeling responsible, Hermione bent down to pick up the papers closest to her. There were quite a few lying around, picking up one Hermione quickly scanned the content, absentmindedly.

This stuff was advanced. Way more advanced than anything Hermione had seen, even during her search of the library last year. She didn't recognise half these spells or the creatures that it spoke of. Was this what they would be learning this year?

Realising she shouldn't be snooping, Hermione reached out to collect another paper a little ways off. Instead of feeling the usual crumpled texture of paper, however, Hermione felt a rather soft and bony substance beneath her fingers.

Without warning a sudden pulse of electricity shot through her arm, the sensation forcing her eyes to close in silence. Hermione's breathing became shallow - lips dry - as she gripped the soft intrusion between her fingers. The pliant material returning the gesture almost immediately.

Turning towards the intrusion, Hermione came face to face with none other than Chloe Roberts. They were a hair breath apart, both looking at one another with a hint of apprehension and confusion. From such a close distance Hermione could see Chloe clearly for the first time since the opening ceremony. And, what she saw… it simply took her breath away.

Chloe epitomized the definition of a regal beauty. Older than her of course, by around twenty years if Hermione remembered correctly, and yet so very appealing. Her eyes showed signs of a difficult life full of hardship and death… but it was all locked away. Hermione couldn't reach it, even though some part of her wanted to.

Drinking in this moment, Hermione felt Chloe's breath fan against her face. The contact making Hermione blush as she met the new teachers eyes once again. A few locks of hair fell into Chloe's eye line but she never seemed to notice it. She just stared… at her.

_So beautiful…_

_To think she's be so close…_

…

_Wait, close…_

Realising their proximity, Hermione looked from her hand to Chloe and back again before comprehension finally dawned. Releasing a un-Hermione-like yelp, the brunette released her hold and collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Startled, Chloe's hand retreated to her bosom, eyes watching as Hermione stared at her from the floor. Both continued to stare at each other, dead to the eyes that occupied the space all around them. Several voices whispered in the background, undiscernible to the two who only recognised one another in this single moment.

"Um, Sorry!" Hermione stuttered, pushing herself to her knees and placing the papers in front of Chloe.

Chloe merely stared at them, bemused. "For What?"

"For… For… Y-You know… Making you drop your things…"

"You did no such thing," Chloe replied, a gentle tone reaching her voice. "The fault lies with me. You have nothing to apologise for. If anyone should apologise it's me."

With her heart pounding in her ears, Hermione motioned towards the papers that lay before her. "Um, eh, these… these are yours. Um, I… I'll help you pick up the rest."

"Thank you. That is most generous of you, miss. But I think a simple incantation will suffice." Turning towards the papers, Chloe pulled out her wand and said. "Accio papers!"

One by one the papers rose from the floor and rested on the curve of her arm. Hermione watched as papers circled her position, flying past her ears in a swish of movement. Blushing, Hermione jumped to her feet and held her arm to her stomach. A nervous habit that she had had trouble shaking since her youth, becoming apparent once again.

"Ah, right, magic. I-I should have probably thought of that. Eh… Sorry again… About before."

Smiling, Chloe reached out towards Hermione and trailed a finger down her earlobe. "There's no need. In fact, I would rather thank you for your assistance."

Breathe hitching, Hermione leaned into the contact and stared into Chloe's stunning eyes. The moment last only a second though, Chloe's hand quickly removing itself from Hermione's tender ear. Clearing her throat, a nervous look reaching her eyes, Chloe bowed and turned to continue along the path towards the teachers table.

_Great…_

_I just embarrassed myself in front of the new Defence against The Dark Arts teacher…_

_Way to go; first Cho and now Chloe Roberts…_

…

However, just as Hermione was about to turn to sit, Chloe's voice halted her once again. The young teacher scuttling back to the Gryffindor table, no care for the eyes that followed their continued interaction. "Um? What is your name, miss?"

"Oh, Hermione. Hermione Granger, Miss Roberts."

Nodding, Chloe wrote the name down on a piece of paper within her pile. Chloe's lips forming the words Hermione Granger repeatedly until she finished. "And… Do you have Defence against the Dark Arts this year?"

"Yes, I do."

"When?"

Unsure Hermione turned to her bag and pulled out her diary. Hands flicking through the pages while Chloe stared at her, lost in thought. "Um? I have Defence against the Dark Arts on Tuesday and… twice on Friday."

"Good. Good." Chloe nodded, scribbling another note on the same page. "Thank you for indulging me."

Smiling, for reasons that escaped her, Hermione watched as Chloe stared back at her. And, if Hermione was not mistaken, Chloe seemed to look her up and down with an appreciative nod. Yeah, she must have been mistaken. There was no way, right?

"Hmm?" Chloe mumbled, fingers pinching her lower lip in thought. "Hermione Granger, I'll remember that."

Flinching at the mention of her name, Hermione pushed her legs firmly together. Her body freezing as she felt something spread inside her panties.

_Oh My God!_

_No!_

_No!_

_No!_

_You have got to be kidding me!_

Noticing Hermione's sudden change, Chloe stepped back and turned her attention to the ground. "Oh! Eh, sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward. Would you prefer Miss Granger from now on?"

"N-No… It's fine…"

Smiling uncertainly, Chloe looked towards the teachers table, motioning towards it as she spoke. "Well. I, uh… Should probably get going. Sorry for disturbing you again. It was most rude of me."

"No, it wasn't a prob…"

Interrupting, Chloe smiled at Hermione. "You're too kind. I'll… I'll see you on Tuesday then."

Walking away, Chloe quickened her paces towards the teachers table. Hermione, meanwhile, avoiding the glares that filled the Great Hall, sped in the opposite direction, towards the exit of the Great Hall.

_I need to go upstairs and clean myself…_

_This is getting ridiculous!_

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Author's Notes: Really sorry for the delay. I had this chapter written on three different occasions but didn't like the way the information was presented in each version. This is my forth re-write and the best version I have done, even though I am not entirely happy with it.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter regardless of the quality of writing. I tried to lessen the amount of exposition, like one reviewer suggested, but after editing I can see that I have done too much yet again. There's fleshing out the story and then there's… well, let's just say I have some ways to go before I can be satisfied with my writing.

Okay, onto the stuff that really matters. The next chapter will include the one character you have all been waiting for. She has turned up in multiple reviews and, because of this, I decided to delay her introduction until now. Your favourite French student will be appearing, and even more importantly than that; she will be involved in a very prominent angle that will be contained within the overall story structure of this tale. I wanted to bring the resounding favourite in with a bang, so to speak; hopefully I will succeeded in the next chapter but only time will tell.

So, as you may have guessed; Cho is one of the newest contenders for Hermione's affections. I always liked the potential of Cho's character. And am happy to see her name mentioned a few times in past reviews. She will be involved quite a bit, as will the rest. Ginny has simply been a joy to write so far so I might feature her a little more. I like her character and personality, after all.

Furthermore, after looking through the reviews in the last chapter I have come to a realisation that views are still split on the; normal sex, penis or tail. So, I have another proposition. I believe all groups will be satisfied if I keep this story 90% normal sex and the remaining 10% will be penis and tail. Although, now that I think about it, another possibility could be that, when I come to write sex scenes, I write two or three different versions of the event. Now they wouldn't be massive departures from each other, the overall story content would remain the same, but the sexual content would be written up differently. I could upload all three chapters to the story with headings, I.e. penis content, normal sex and tail content. So you're aware which one you are reading.

How does that sound?

Yeah, it means a little more work but you guys are definitely worth it.

The decision is up to you. I'll have a look at what you all say and go from there.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I can promise you the next one will be something a little special :D So definitely look forward to that. Anyway I've got to go, I'm not sure when I'll be able to write again but I'm hoping it will be soon. By for now and I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter of The Succubus.


	13. Chapter 12: Careful what you wish for

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 12: Careful what you wish for.

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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><p>.<p>

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"OH MY GOD!"

…

"They're here. They're here. Charlotte says she saw them!"

…

"Andy! Andy! How do I look? Do I look ready?"

"Oh, sure. You look ready… ready to be ignored that is…"

…

Walking through the crowded halls of Hogwarts, Hermione couldn't help but overhear the murmur of students spreading all around her. This had become a familiar scene in the last few days. The whispers and excitement, somehow, heightening with each passing hour. No matter where she looked Hermione could see groups of young girls and boys talking amongst each other, smiles reaching their lips at the mention of… that School.

_Do they have nothing better to do than talk about that damn School…?_

_This is getting ridiculous!_

This had been going on for far too long. Teenagers acting like children at the prospect of beautiful French women entering their lives.

And, no matter how hard she tried, Hermione couldn't escape the clamour.

Everyone was talking about it, and everyone sounded excited about it. Hell, even Harry and Ron wouldn't shut up about it, the latter talking in an excitement that only a child could possess. The situation was ludicrous. Hermione knew her entire year had a mountain of homework and studies to get to but no one - apart from her good self - seemed to spare a moment for it.

They were all too excited to even attempt it. Too excited to even acknowledge her disappointed gaze or her numerous complaints.

…

And what was the reason for their excitement, you might ask?

…

Well, it was because a certain French School would be arriving today…

The School that everyone had been waiting for with bated breath…

…

One; BeauBaxtons Academy of Magic.

And, what's more, word was they had already arrived in the castle ahead of schedule.

…

"Stevie, says he saw them." A young Ravenclaw announced to a nearby group, running straight into them in his hurry to spread the news. "He says he saw them fly in by Chariot. The one they used last year."

"By Chariot? Again? Thought they would have done something different. We've already seen the Chariot."

Laughing, a Hufflepuff stepped forward. "They're not here to show off, John. They're here to continue their education, you moron. Why would they care to impress us?"

"Why wouldn't they? All they do is show off. You can't tell me they wear those short skirts for their practicality. No, it's so they can show off their bodies. And, boy, can they show them off."

Stepping past the group of hormonal boys, Hermione continued on towards her destination. Many students passed her in a sprint, dragging their friends along to make it to the Great Hall before everyone else. Everyone seemed to be in a real hurry. So, it was no surprise when a young Gryffindor went tumbling to the ground right in front of her.

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow."

Looking towards the young blonde, who was clutching her knee, Hermione turned and moved to kneel beside her. "Are you okay?"

When the young girl nodded in response, Hermione offered her hand and pulled the young Gryffindor up to her feet. The blonde girl dusted herself off, unaware that the person who had helped her was none other than the famous Hermione Granger. She had been too distracted by the pain in her knee to connect the voice to the brightest witch of her age.

But the moment she turned her emerald green eyes to Hermione, the girl froze in mid-action, eyes bulging at the sight in front of her.

_H-Her-Hermione!_

_Oh…_

_Oh, shit!_

Hermione, meanwhile, felt every nerve in her body sizzle with pleasure. A heat rushing through her body to rest and pulsate at her centre. Of course, this reaction too had become quite the norm in recent times. And yet, despite its newfound familiarity, Hermione still couldn't handle the emotion and pleasure that swept through her.

Every touch she shared with the young blonde had sent her heart racing into overdrive. Her hands resting on the young girl a little longer than was appropriate or necessary. Hermione couldn't help herself as she stared at those pink, luscious lips… her eyes glistening when she saw the flustered features of the young girl's face. The sight would have sent a lesser man over the edge without a shadow of a doubt.

However, rather than being unnerved by Hermione's predatory inspection, the young girl seemed to enjoy the attention. In among the bustle of students the young girl stood completely still, her eyes watching Hermione's lips part for every delectable breath. Emerald green eyes glazing over as she continued to caress the brunette's soft fingers with her own.

Recognising the lack of clarity in the blonde's eye, Hermione's mind snapped to attention and she immediately pulled away. The blonde looked upset at first, her hands rubbing together so that she could spread Hermione's warmth across her fingers, but the brunette didn't have time to feel sorry for her. She had to get away.

Apologising, Hermione turned and continued on towards the Great Hall. The young blonde watching her progress with increasing interest.

…

_God dammit, Hermione!_

_You know you're not supposed to touch them!_

_When will you ever learn!_

Unfortunately, since her return to Hogwarts, there had been a number of similar incidences that took place between herself and other female students. She had tried to suppress the Succubae's wants at first, but quickly realised that this would only make matters worse. Because, every time she denied the beast, showed signs of resistance, the Succubae would assault her mind with images. Sexual images that would make even the dirtiest mind blush and stutter upon inspection.

The Succubae had become a real problem these last few days, the creature intruding upon her mind whenever it sensed opportunity. In fact, rather recently, the Succubae had taken to watching the Gryffindor students who had gone up to bed early. The creature had even sent images of Hermione following the student up stairs, pinning them against their bed and having her way with them before any roommates could interfere. It was a terrifyingly difficult urge to suppress. The image was sickening… and yet, some part of her wanted to experience every moment of it.

Hermione had almost allowed herself to succumb to the Succubae's urges only yesterday. When everyone had gone upstairs to sleep and left her and Ginny along together in the common room. For whatever reason, Ginny had thought it a good idea to work through her Herbology essay while seated in Hermione's lap. To this day Ginny had not explained why.

The situation had been absurd because, while Ginny was brusk and a little playful, she had never attempted anything as intimate as this before. The redhead had proved rather distracting, her small frame fitting snuggly in her arms – which the redhead had wrapped around her waist.

Not to mention the fact that Ginny's studying style was a little disruptive to her own learning. The young redhead seemed to use her whole body when contemplating difficult questions, her small butt fidgeting against Hermione's hips as she worked. The redhead didn't notice, and Hermione was in no position to say anything as she had been left completely flustered by the experience. The moment had lasted but a few minutes before Hermione had managed to escape to her dormitory, only succeeding to slip from Ginny's grasp because she had been thrown off her lap.

…

This wasn't even the worst of her troubles, quite remarkably. No, the biggest problem was her new found popularity among the female members of her own House, Gryffindor. She had amassed quite a following at this point, topped only by Harry.

Of course, Hermione had always been relatively popular – as a member of the Golden trio – but that previous fame was nothing compared to what she had now. Female students who she had never spoken to had gone out of their way to talk to her, some had even asked if she had any plans for Hogsmeade weekend. Others had asked for one on one tutoring in the library. And one particular sixth year had even taken it upon herself to sit next to Hermione whenever she was in the common room, which had incensed Ginny beyond belief.

Hermione had to admit she was struggling with the Succubus. The beast could be reasoned with up to a point but there was always a price attached. For instance, if Hermione wanted sole rein over her mind for the day she would have to allow the Succubus some form of physical contact to sate its hunger. So far Hermione had managed to lessen the contact to the simple brushing of skin against skin, something she had done innocuously with Ginny.

Thankfully, the redhead didn't seem to notice the increased contact or mind it if she did. In fact, rather surprisingly, the redhead was usually the one who initiated said contact. Often jumping towards Hermione with her hands outstretched in greeting. The Succubus seemed quite satisfied with this and would allow Hermione to have free rein over her mind for the duration of the day.

So, on the whole, all seemed well. For now at least.

…

…

Carefully descending along the moving staircase, Hermione heard more whispers from the crowd. Everyone seemed to be heading towards the Great Hall far earlier than usual. The moving staircase filled to the brim with anxious and excited students from every year. How nobody had fallen off the side, Hermione could have only suspected the hand of witchcraft had played a part in this. Because many looked like they were mere seconds from plummeting to their deaths.

"Hey, Alex!" A Gryffindor yelled five floors up from Hermione's position, to a student directly in front of her. "Martin says he saw the Beaubaxton students leaving the Hogwarts Express. They're on their way now!"

At this announcement the entire male student body cheered loudly, Hermione sighing as she watched young boys high five and hug each other.

_You have got to be kidding me._

Pushing through the crowd of jubilant boys, Hermione scowled at the childish reaction from her fellow pupils. She was not alone in this, however, as many of the girls watched the commotion with similar, if not darker, expressions of their own.

_This is pointless…_

_Our attempts to bond with BeauBaxton and Durmstrang last year was nothing more than a complete failure…_

_There was no international co-operation of any kind, we segregated ourselves from each other and hardly ever spoke…_

_The only time we did any sort of School bonding was during the Yule Ball when it was forced upon us…_

_Where students from other School's became acquainted with one other by stuffing their tongues down each other's throats…_

_What is the point? Why are we trying again when our attempts at bonding clearly failed?_

Stepping through the doors of the Great Hall, Hermione marched towards a spare seat at the Gryffindor table. Many students even stopped their activities to watch Hermione's progress, her features appearing stern and hardened. Very unlike the Hermione Granger they were used to seeing.

Taking a seat, Hermione huffed and crossed her arms against her chest. An aura of 'do-not-fuck-with-me' emanating out of every pore of her body. The Gryffindor's realised this very quickly and left the brunette to her own thoughts, something Hermione was secretly grateful for despite her frustrations. Hermione knew she was taking things a little too far but she had good reason for her anger.

Truth is; it was late in the School day and a time that would usually be reserved for studying in the library. But no, instead, she had to sacrifice her precious studying time to welcome BeauBaxton Academy. A School who, by Dumbledore's own admission, they would not see much of and were not allowed to interfere with.

…

…

So, they were basically saying hello before being told never to speak with them again…?

What was the point in that…?

Surely… Surely it would be far more beneficial to allow both Schools to mingle with one another. To allow students to share their vast knowledge and experiences with each other.

Of course, like most things, there would need to be rules and regulations but it would, at least, allow a bond to form between Hogwarts and BeauBaxton. This was surely a better option that continuing with the isolationist policy that existed last year, which did nothing more than strain tensions between the two student bodies.

There were so many things about this that felt wrong. So much so that Hermione doubted Albus had any say in these matters, as he was a supporter of the same values that she herself possessed.

So, did that mean Madam Maxine had a hand in these limitations? Or, and this was far more likely, was this enforced by the Ministry of Magic in Britain who had conducted the meeting?

So many questions – that no one else considered – but that rested on Hermione's mind all the same.

_Hmm…_

_For one; why are Beaubaxton living in Hogsmeade when there are so many unused room in the castle?_

_I mean, I know those rooms weren't created for living in but surely magic could solve that little conundrum…_

This all felt wrong. Everything about this situation felt poorly planned and executed.

…

Which meant the Ministry of Magic definitely had a hand in all of this.

…

Allowing the matter to leave her mind, Hermione noticed the entire Hall was already packed to capacity. The noise inside had been unbearably loud upon entrance but had since died down, falling to a low murmur at the appearance of the teachers entering from the other side of the Great Hall. A few whispers now spoke of Chloe Roberts, who was seated beside Professor McGonagall, deep in conversation. But even her appearance couldn't detract from the main talking point of the night.

Turning to look away from the teachers table as Chloe's beautiful eyes had somehow managed to find her among the throng of students, Hermione felt her temperature rise. Even when busying herself with looking around her surroundings, Hermione could still feel Chloe's eyes pressing into her with every nerve-wracking second.

It was at this moment, however, that the brunette finally noticed something rather peculiar.

…

Directly behind the Slytherin table – a table which had always been placed closest to the wall - sat another larger table. This meant that there were now five tables inside the Great Hall. The inclusion of a new table should have resulted in the other four tables being squeezed together to accommodate the fifth. And yet, to Hermione's trained eye, the distance between the Gryffindor table and the Hufflepuff table had not been reduced by even the slightest margin.

No, in fact, Hermione was sure of it. The distance was the same, and the same applied to the Ravenclaw table on the other side of them.

_I think Albus must have used a mastery level lengthening charm to extend the walls outwards without crushing the entire structure…_

_That's incredible…_

The rest of the School also seemed to recognise the appearance of a fifth table but – rather than be impressed with the ingenuity on display – the students talked about BeauBaxton once again. Sighing, realising Albus Dumbledore's incredible talent was being ignored because of a few good looking French women, Hermione shook her head.

'**HehEhEhHeHeeHe!'**

Ignoring the Succubus – its laughter bouncing across the confines of her brain – Hermione rubbed her forehead. It was only moments later - when Hermione saw Harry and Ron come sprinting through the doors of the Great Hall - that the brunette's migraine, finally, turned into a pulse-pounding headache.

What on Earth were Harry and Ron doing?

They were sprinting into the Great Hall like they were late when they were, in fact, five minutes early.

…

"Hey." Hermione drawled the moment Ron reached her, panting for breath.

Harry, waving to Hermione as he approached, punched Ron on the side of his forearm before snatching something out of the redhead's hand. Then, sitting down beside Hermione – who looked flabbergasted - Harry explained. "Ron thought we might be late. So, he decided to sprint here. I said we had enough time but he disagreed. So, rather than talking this over like a mature adult, he took my Marauder's map and legged it over here. That's why we were sprinting to get here."

Nodding in confirmation, a disapproving gaze turning to Ron's tired features, Hermione led Ron towards the seat beside her and sat him down. The redhead was red faced, out of breath and rubbing the spot where Harry had punched him in some distress. Poor Ron, he wasn't one for physical endurance. Although, now that she came to think of it, neither was she. They were quite similar in that regard… before the Succubus infected her, that is.

"I did… not run… I… was… jogging…." Ron wheezed, lounging against the table as he tried to catch his breath.

Before Harry had a chance to reply, Albus stood from his seat and walked to the front of the stage. Silence immediately followed this motion, not a single mention of BeauBaxton's being heard while their Headmaster demanded their attention.

"Young ladies and gentlemen. It is a pleasure to see you all again and I hope your return or, in some cases, introduction to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been a good one. Now, I will keep this short as it is late in the day and you all have lessons in the morning. So, without further ado, please join me in welcoming back, BeauBaxtons Academy of Magic!"

And with that the Hall erupted into loud applause, the doors of the Great Hall swinging open to reveal the familiar sight of blue robes and beautiful faces. The noise within the large room only increased upon their sighting, Hermione covering her ears as Ron stood up and applauded – exhaustion forgotten.

_Great!_

_This day can't get any worse._

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

_._

_._

The large group of French students made their way into the Great Hall, smiling and curtsying in a rehearsed but no less genuine manner of greeting. Some BeauBaxton students even waved to students from Ravenclaw, who they had spent a lot of time with last year during the Tri-Wizard tournament. Butterflies, confetti – by the looks of it – and other impressive feats were shown as the Beaubaxton students came in group by group.

They had clearly spent a lot of time practising their entrance. Students flowing towards the front of the cue to greet the Hogwarts students before moving along to allow their classmate a moment in the spotlight. It was very well rehearsed and co-ordinated, Hermione had to admit. Even if it was a little over the top.

So, clapping along with the other students, in support of each BeauBaxton student's efforts, Hermione waited for them all to take their seats. There were a lot of student's to get through, though. Many already moving to the table to watch their seniors introduce themselves to the Hogwarts students. They all seemed very beautiful, skin unblemished and bodies either small or curved in all the right ways.

'**BEauBAXtoN… BeAUBaXTOn… HeHEHahAHAheHaheHa!'**

_Calm down…_

_You have no reason to get excited…_

_You won't be seeing them again…_

'**BeAUbaXton… Want… Desire… Feed… Hunger… Fuck… Fuuuuck… HAHEEHahHEahEhAHa!'**

Realising that she had not prepared herself properly for the arrival of the BeauBaxton students, Hermione closed her eyes tight. The sight of so many beautiful, unique and exotic women was sending the Succubus into a frenzy. Images assaulted her mind one after another; Hermione tackling a BeauBaxton against their table and rubbing herself up and down her in front of the entire School. Images of Hermione helping a group of lost Beaubaxton students find their way, only to lead them into a four way orgy, were only some of the thoughts that troubled her aching mind.

The images wouldn't stop, the feeling of her sex pulsing against the tight confines of her knickers becoming harder and harder to bear. A moan was threatening to pass her lips. Her face was flushed, lips chaffed and eyes now wandering to each girl like they were an all you can eat buffet.

'**HEhAHHEHAheHahEhA! W-Want… Desire… Hunger… Feed… Must… Have… A… Taste!'**

The Succubus was ecstatic at the prospect of tasting so many women. Hermione's sense of control lessening as the beast battered at every restraint keeping it at bay. There would be no reasoning with this creature. The time for agreements and deals were now gone. The Succubus had seen the best this world had to offer and it wanted to taste every last drop of it. It no longer cared for compromises, for Hermione's sanity… it wanted to feed, to taste and it would do so without hindrance.

_No!_

_You will not do anything to these girls…_

_They are not yours…_

_You will leave them alone…_

Leaning towards the table, haggard breathing passing her lips, Hermione felt droplets of sweat race down her nose. The effort of restraining the beast was proving to be physically as well as mentally draining. But she didn't dare drop her guard. Hermione knew the beast was desperate to escape. Clawing and scratching against the defences that Hermione's own mind had created. But, Hermione knew, that the creature couldn't escape without her say so… which meant it was up to Hermione to tame it, and tame it she would.

…

Finding it difficult to breathe, Hermione rubbed her throat to further aid the flow of oxygen. The Succubae was still battling against its restraints but, for the most part, Hermione had managed to calm it down. How she had accomplished such a feat, the brunette had no idea. But some part of her knew that the Succubus had been contained… for now at least.

Turning to look at the newest group entering the Great Hall, Hermione was assaulted by the breath-taking sight of Beaubaxtons oldest students. Hazel eyes wandering across to the newest group to enter the Great Hall, their defined bodies evident even in their thin pieces of clothing. At this realisation, Hermione frowned.

Why would they wear such flimsy material?

Yes, it hid their bodies from view but it was in an almost teasing manner. The outline of their bodies could be seen very clearly and yet no skin was exposed, except on their forearms and neck.

…

As her boredom began to rise, attention turning to the other BeauBaxton students sitting at their table, a collective gasp emanated from the student body. Turning, surprised by the silence that followed, Hermione could only gasp upon inspection of the beautiful creature standing at the foot of the Great Hall.

With a few steps, the figure moved into the hall. The sound of her footsteps echoing within the silence, matching the pace of the brunette's heart. Turning her blue cerulean eyes to audience, the figure looked over the student body of Hogwarts, inspecting every face with a smile. The glimmer of white teeth peeking out behind her soft red lips, causing the male populace to clutch their pant leg almost immediately.

Standing tall the figure looked to her side, her bright blonde locks flowing past her shoulder in time with the movement. Everyone stared in silence, enticed by the movement. She was perfect. The embodiment of the most beautiful painting brought to life. Her healthy, unblemished, pale skin was the envy of every woman in the vicinity. The subtle hint of red plush adorning her lips completing the breath-taking ensemble.

Still smiling, the figure held the edges of her dress and curtsied in front of the entire School. The movement was slow yet majestic, her eyes never blinking as they held each students gaze.

"Jesus Christ…"

Ignoring this stray voice, the figure stood to her feet. This attention was nothing new to her, the sight of boys licking their lips and staring at her breasts was just a common occurrence outside of Beaubaxton Academy. She no longer became flustered by this response, in fact she took it in stride. She had done so when she was a Tri-Wizard Champion, and she would do so again.

"T-Th-That's… That's Fleur Delacour!" A student whispered, although in the silence of the Hall it came across as more of a yell.

"I thought she was going to the Palace of the fine arts!"

…

Ignoring the murmurings from the students, Fleur turned and moved towards the BeauBaxton table. As she walked, her eyes continued to search the large number of students for the one person she was hoping to see. Fleur had promised herself she would only look, for one single a moment. It would be a chanced glance and nothing more than that… but she needed to make sure that **she** was still here.

_Where is she…?_

_Merde! Was she in Gryffindor…?_

_Or was it Ravenclaw…?_

_I can't recall_

…

'**HEHAhehhahEHhAHa… HUH! -" **

Alerted to the Succubae's abrupt silence, Hermione sat up, concern rising as silence reigned in her mind. Blinking, Hermione felt a sudden weight being lifted of her shoulders. Her own thoughts racing to the forefront of her mind, no longer sounding distant and unclear.

**',,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,'**

_Hey!_

_Hello?!_

_W-What's going on…?_

**',,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,'**

_Hello!_

_HELLLO!_

Whimpering, the beast remained silent, never responding to Hermione's questions or even her words of comfort. The beast was… scared… terrified even… but… of what?

In fact, if Hermione wasn't mistaken, the beast was receding back into her, scratching and clawing against its own well-formed barriers. It was undoing all the work it had done since its inception, tearing it all down in a panic the likes of which she had never felt before. Not even when her life was in danger had she experienced this kind of fear.

_What are you doing…?_

_Why are you hiding…?_

The creature refused to listen. She could feel the Succubae relinquishing its control, scurrying away into the darkest corner of her mind… leaving Hermione in complete control of her mind and body.

…

Wait…?

She was in complete control of her mind and body…?

All she could hear was her voice, and her voice alone, not the deranged mumblings of a sadistic creature. The creature was no longer present, hidden as far back as it could possibly go without perishing all together.

This was great. She was free. Free of the Succubae's control for the first time in weeks.

…

The Succubus was terrified now, whimpering and crying somewhere in the background of her mind.

But why…?

The Succubus had been so excited, so desperate to seize control over her mind and body just moments ago. And yet, in the blink of an eye, the creature had panicked and scratched its way into a corner of her mind… giving her complete control…?

Despite the feeling of relief and happiness washing over her, Hermione couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Something wasn't right. The Succubae would never act this way unless it feared something. But, what? There was nothing unusual going on. No dementors coming to suck the life out of her, no death eaters coming to silence the last hope of resistance.

Nothing.

And yet, the Succubae had abandoned her…

Unsettled, Hermione tried to fit in with everyone else, turning her eyes towards the last remaining Beaubaxton student to have entered the Great Hall.

…

And that was when it happened…

…

The moment she looked in Fleur's direction, Hermione saw those very same stunning blue eyes looking back at her.

…

Fleur was staring at her… **her**. One of the most beautiful women in the world - and a worthy champion to boot - had stopped in her movements and was now staring at her. She was standing completely still, the eyes of the entire School watching her in concern as she just… stood there.

_Eh, what…?_

She didn't move. Fleur was unresponsive to everyone, her classmates who tried to usher her to sit never even gained a moment of her attention. Even Madam Maxine's words failed to muster a response, appearing as static in Fleur's ears.

…

The only thing that could be seen, by the students and teacher in the Hall, was Fleur's sudden change in expression. Gone was the happy smile and warm expression. Replaced with a look of shock and surprise that now tainted her otherwise beautiful features… before another undiscernible expression followed shortly after.

"Fleur? Fleur? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" A nearby seven year Beaubaxton called, gripping her hand and trying to pull her to sit.

"…"

"Miss Delacour, would you please sit down. Miss Delacour!"

"…"

Nervous whispering followed Madam Maxine's words. Students turning to look in the direction of Fleur's eye line but finding nothing amiss whatsoever. The noise in the hall gradually grew louder, the concerned looks from teachers of both Hogwarts and Beaubaxton becoming more noticeable by the second.

Realising where Fleur's eyes were resting, Albus immediately stood up from his chair and called for everyone's attention. "Enough! I would ask that you not shame us in front of our arriving guests. You are free to talk to your heart's desire at the culmination of the feast but not before. Do I make myself clear?"

Fleur, realising the headmaster was speaking, shakily moved towards the nearest seat and collapsed into it, her head in her hands. The Beaubaxton students grew concerned, looking at one another in hopes that an explanation could be had. But no one had any answers for their clan leader's strange behaviour. Even Madam Maxine, who had shooed a nearby student away from the seat nearest Fleur, could not get a word out of the blonde student.

"Now, I have one more announcement to make before the feast commences. This announcement concerns both Hogwarts and Beaubaxton, and only applies to the female members of the School body," A few murmurs started up but were quickly shut down by Professor McGonagall's glare. "I am very proud to announce that – with the co-operation from the Ministry and BeauBaxton – that we will be having our very first student exchange program."

"Student exchange program?" Hermione whispered under her breath, along with the rest of the School.

"Yes. Now, this is a very unique and rare opportunity for all of us. Which is why - in this program - only certain, hand-picked students will attend classes at Beaubaxton Academy. They will also live in the dormitories at Hogsmeade, and experience life as if they were a Beaubaxton student. The same also applies to Beaubaxton, of course. Beaubaxton students will come to Hogwarts to be taught by us and will live in our castle."

"…"

"This opportunity is available to female students only, and each student will spend one month at the other School. The program will continue throughout the school year and, depending on its success, there is a possibility that this will continue far beyond that. More information will be revealed next week by your Heads of House. Now, without further ado… let the feast commence. "

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

With the sound of cutlery hitting the plates the entire School – Hogwarts and Beaubaxton – turned their attentions to their meals. Small pockets of conversation began to bubble up from around the table as exotic and traditional foods appeared out of thin air. The feast on this occasion, and like most occasions, was impressive to say the least. That much could be attested to by Ron who was already on his second leg of chicken, his hands holding two items of food at all times.

And yet… Hermione hadn't moved.

The sound of laughter emanated all around her position but not one word registered because the brunette's entire focus was on the fifth table. More specifically, on the previous Tri-Wizard champion… Fleur Delacour.

Hermione didn't have the best of views but she could still see Fleur's vague outline. The blonde woman was still slouched in her chair, hands covering her face as she shrugged of anyone who tried to touch her. What the hell was going on?

The entire table that surrounded Fleur had not made a move to even touch their food yet. All were looking at her in worry, eyes occasionally turning to each other in hopes that a solution could be found. No one dared to utter a single word, the silence oppressive even from Hermione's position. Madam Maxine, meanwhile, was looking extremely uncomfortable, eyes scanning the vicinity to make sure no one was prying into their business.

With this realisation in hand, Hermione quickly withdrew her gaze back to her food, just in time to avoid Maxine's scrutinising gaze. She had to focus on her food, focus on eating. No one on the Gryffindor table seemed to notice her discomfort. Ron was too busy stuffing his face to notice, Harry was in conversation with Fred and George, and Ginny was talking Quidditch with one of her friends.

So, steadying her breathing, Hermione reached out and poured a bowl of rice onto her plate. This was as much as she could eat today. While the food on display looked delicious; Hermione's appetite had long since abandoned her along with the Succubus. For some reason the Succubae's disappearance had filled her with a sense of… dread… fear… to an almost life threatening extent. It made no sense; she had all the reason in the world to be happy right now, and yet… not a single thought strayed in that direction.

_Hey!_

**',,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,'**

_Wake up!_

**',,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,'**

What aren't you telling me…?

What's going on…?

**',,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,'**

In response to the silence, Hermione looked up from the plate, the fork of rice half-way to her mouth… before the movement stopped altogether. In fact, all movement ceased. The only sounds to reach her ears was that of her own heartbeat. A pair of deep blue eyes racing into focus from across the Great Hall. Even through the throng of students Hermione could see her eyes, Fleur's eyes. And they were looking directly at... **her.**

_W-What…?_

_Why is she…?_

If Hermione had been paying attention she would have seen that Madam Maxine was no longer seated beside Fleur…

That the students were no longer watching Fleur with concerned expressions, their attentions now on the food that littered the table...

But she hadn't been paying attention. No, it wasn't that. It was that she **couldn't **pay attention. Madam Maxine's absence and the students change in priorities were all insignificant. Because all Hermione saw… all of her attention… was now on Fleur, just Fleur.

Feeling nervous, Hermione wet her dry lips with her tongue, Fleur's eyes lowering to watch the pink intrusion with another unreadable expression. Those beautiful blue orbs were now fastened to her, never blinking, as they began to narrow in her direction.

_W-Why is Fleur staring at me…?_

_We've barely even spoken to each other…_

_So, why…?_

Lowering her eyes back to her plate of rice, Hermione stirred the contents with her fork, the sound of her heartbeat still racing in her ears. The sound was really starting to unsettle her now. With every passing second, Hermione's body temperature started to heat up. Sweat sliding down her forehead as she continued to stir the rice with her fork, eyes trained on the movement.

Even without looking, Hermione could tell Fleur's eyes were still on her. It was hard to ignore really; the heat that pressed against the side of her face, the side that Fleur was looking at. God, she must have been as red as Ron's hair by now.

_Why is she still staring at me…?_

_Does she lack sufficient Bouillabaisse…?_

… This was becoming too much.

… Enough was enough.

…. She had to leave.

Realising that her appetite had long since passed, Hermione pushed the plate away and stood up from the table. Several eyes, including Fleur's, watched Hermione's movement, interest waning as they returned their attention to more pressing matters. All that is except for a fair few who watched with great interest.

"Eh, Hermione?" Ron mumbled around his mouthful of chicken, looking at Hermione as she rose unexpectedly. "Where are you going?"

Turning to face the redhead, Hermione smiled. "There's no need to worry, Ron. I'm just going upstairs to my dormitory. Feeling a little sick so I'm going to go and sleep it off."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Harry asked leaning towards her while Ron returned to his meal, fully satisfied.

"Yes, Harry. I'm fine. I'll see you both tomorrow morning."

Walking down the aisle towards the entrance of the Great Hall, a hand suddenly stopped Hermione in her tracks. Looking down the length of the arm, Hermione was not at all surprised to see Ginny's concerned features. A small trickle of jam resting on the corner of her lip…

_She was always a messy eater…_

_Much like Ron in that regard…_

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ginny asked, pulling Hermione down so they weren't overheard.

"Of course I am, Ginny. I'm just feeling a little under the weather so I'm going to sleep early tonight."

"I was watching you Hermione. I've never seen you like that. You looked out of sorts. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Smiling, attempting to calm the redhead's worry, Hermione placed a hand against her shoulder. "Like I said, Ginny. I've not been feeling well today. I'll be back to normal tomorrow, so please don't worry."

Pursing her lips in thought, Ginny eventually nodded her head in understanding, letting go of Hermione's forearm. "Okay then. I'll bring up some food with me if you change your mind, or feel hungry later on in the day. Just come up to my room and wake me up. I'll have to hide it from Ron which means you won't find it without me."

Hugging Ginny goodnight, Hermione walked down the aisle before making her way through the entrance of the Great Hall. Never once looking back for fear that she would see Fleur's eyes looking back at her.

The moment Hermione stepped outside, out of view to the occupants of the Great Hall, her footsteps quickened towards the moving staircase. Taking the steps two at a time, Hermione continued onward. Her progress almost halting in its tracks when she heard a new set of footsteps somewhere below her.

…

…

She didn't dare turn around, the sounds of heels forcing her feet to quicken up the stairs. With reckless abandon Hermione jumped towards the retreating flight of stairs, behaving in a manner that was very much unlike her. The act alone could have resulted in her death but some force told her she needed to move… like her life depended on it.

…

The sound of heels coming ever closer, Hermione's fast paced walk quickly turned into a jog.

…

In the back of her mind, the brunette could hear a strange whimper coming from inside… the Succubus crying, begging her to hurry.

…

As Hermione finally reached her floor, her jog turned into a full-on sprint. The footsteps behind her immediately followed her rhythm, the sound of breathing from the pursuing figure drawing closer and closer. She was almost there. All she had to do was make it to the Fat lady and this would all be over. Once inside, she was safe… safe from this unsettling situation. Surely the comfort of the Gryffindor common room would be enough to calm her racing heart.

Turning the corner, Hermione saw her goal in sight. The fat lady was in sight.

…

And then, in a flash of movement, Hermione was suddenly grabbed from behind, a surprised gasp leaving her lips as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her mid-drift. Without a moment's pause, the figure turned Hermione around and pushed her head back, gripping her by the throat.

"Ah! Ahh!"

The figure's fingers tightened, nails digging into the side of her neck before forcing the young brunette into the air and against the nearby wall. Chocking, Hermione turned her face to look in the direction of her abuser…

And the person she saw was one of the last people she expected…

"F…Fl… Fleur!"

…

…

Struggling against Fleur's hold, Hermione tried to pry the blonde woman's fingers off her neck. The act of breathing was becoming painful now, her airways closed off, and face turning purple. But Fleur showed no signs of caring, a trickle of blood slipping down her nails as they split open the brunette's skin.

Panicking, Hermione attempted to fight her way out, pushing and kicking from her elevated position against the wall. A gasp of pain leaving the brunette's lips as the back of her neck arched upwards, the bones extending beyond their normal rotation. Feeling a white hot sensation race across her spine, Hermione threw out a flailing arm.

Showing quick reflexes, Fleur caught Hermione's forearm and forced it against the wall, pinning it to the side of her hips. Gargling and spluttering, Hermione forced herself to look down, tilting her head towards the woman who had inflicted all this pain. When she finally saw Fleur's face an unnerving chill swept through her body, adding to the fear that was still tearing her apart.

Fleur… Fleur looked pissed; white, perfectly shaped teeth gritted in anger and eyes narrowed together with a maddening glint. The sight was terrifying to look at. A woman who Hermione had once considered the most beautiful thing she had ever seen was no more. Replaced by a creature that would be commonly found in the darkest nightmares you could possibly imagine.

That wasn't to say Fleur wasn't beautiful. She still retained her natural beauty, of course. But that knowledge only added to her fear.

To think that someone so beautiful could have such a demented side to her.

…

Tilting Hermione's head down, Fleur leaned forward level with the brunette. "Did you really think you could trick me?"

"W-What…?"

"I-It was a nice trick," Fleur snarled, tightening her grasp around Hermione's forearm. "Hiding your essence… And I don't know how you did it! But that doesn't change the facts. I know what you are! You. Are. A. Succubus."

Whimpering, the voice coming from her own lips rather than the Succubus, Hermione began to choke. A sudden darkness was resting over her eyes, her arm going limp and lolling to her side. Noticing this, Fleur's fingers eased their pressure. Within moments the brunette let out a loud gasp before coughing and spluttering, a throbbing pain resting at her throat.

_S-She knows…_

_H-How…?_

_How does she know I'm a Succubus…?_

"How dare you show your face to me," Fleur seethed, breathing heavily in anger. "After everything you did to us!"

"W-What… What do… you mean…?"

"You were once like us; descendants from our blood line," Fleur whispered, a hint of sadness reaching her voice. "You were supposed to be the next step in our evolution… but we were wrong!"

At these words, Fleur re-tightened her hold around Hermione's throat, eyes pierced together in anger and betrayal. Ignoring the muffled scream of pain, Fleur watched the Succubus with a hint of satisfaction. This was no less than what the creature deserved. It was a blight upon the world, and should have been eradicated years ago.

Feeling her feet dangle above the floor, Hermione felt tears rush to her eyes, the sounds of silence the only thing to accompany this trauma. "I… I… Can't…"

"You betrayed us! You were supposed to be like us… but you were impure, tainted. We should have known!"

"I…I don't… Ah!"

"We welcomed you with open arms. Sheltered you. Kept you safe from harm. Called you family! And, behind our back, you leeched off everyone you became intimate with. You ignored our rules, our doctrine and put us in harm's way!"

…

Dropping Hermione - so that she crumpled to the floor - Fleur grabbed a hold of the Gryffindor's collar and threw her towards a nearby door. The moment Hermione's back made contact with the door, the wood splintered around her body and she was propelled inside. Skidding along the floor, Hermione's crashed into the Teacher's desk, a sickening crack emanating from her shoulder.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

Walking through the broken door, Fleur placed a hand against Hermione's mouth, silencing her. As the seconds rolled on, Fleur's eyes suddenly darkened and her hand pressed harder against her mouth. Suddenly realising that the blonde Veela was chocking her, Hermione swatted and batted against Fleur's hold.

But Fleur didn't flinch… She was far stronger than Hermione, who still seemed to be in her infancy when it came to the age of a Succubus. It was no wonder this battle was so easy. A young Succubus would stand little chance against her. The Veela had become accustomed to her abilities while young Hermione had not.

Releasing her hold around Hermione's mouth, Fleur allowed the brunette a momentary rest bite. Enjoying the sight of the Succubus gasping and pleading for air. When she believed the creature had gulped in enough, Fleur wrapped her fingers around her throat and dragged her up the nearby blackboard.

"Hurts, doesn't it," Fleur sniggered, leaning into Hermione's face to watch the pain etched upon it. "The feeling of helplessness. Betrayal. How do you think we felt when you betrayed us?"

"…"

"We warned you! We told you not to drain anyone of their life essence! You were supposed to feed up until a point and then move on to someone else! We wanted to protect you! Protect your kind from extinction! To help you, teach you of our ways! But you never listened! You fed off everything, drained them dry until they were nothing more than husks!"

Eyes rolling into the back of her head, Hermione felt blood drip down her arm. "I… I didn't… I didn't know…"

"And when the world learned of you… learned that we had protected and sheltered you… everyone sought our extinction. My kind were slaughtered, our young murdered because of our perceived alliance with you! We risked our lives for you! Tried to help and nurture you to live among us… But you betrayed us!"

Placing Hermione's feet against the ground, Fleur grabbed Hermione and threw her head first into the row of tables in front of the School desk. One by one Hermione felt the tables collapse against her weight, her body rolling as she tried to regain her balance mid-flow. Once crumpled against the floor, pain and shards of wood sticking out of her skin, Hermione looked up to see Fleur throwing chairs out of the way to reach her.

Groggily, Hermione tried to claw her way out of the room but was halted when Fleur gripped the back of her hair and turned her around. Then, leaning down to rest on top of the Succubus, the Veela placed her hands back against her throat. Hermione's eyes bulging as the pressure returned.

"Ten years! Ten years my kind were slaughtered! And yet we still protected you! Believed you could be saved from your own desires! And then you committed the most heinous crime imaginable! Or should I say your hero, Rose did! That harlot drained our leader's daughter and fled!"

Slipping in and out of consciousness, Hermione's mind suddenly caught the mention of a familiar name. But, no… it couldn't be…

_Rose…?_

_My other mother…?_

_Could it really be her…?_

Unaware of Hermione ponderings, Fleur gritted her teeth and stared down at the brunette. "You killed our most prized possession, our next ruler… And then fled like cowards! So, we banished you! Hunted you down until there were nothing but a handful of you left! We had given you so much and you used us! You are our greatest shame… and our greatest disappointment."

"…"

Suddenly realising their close proximity, Fleur blinked and leaned away. She hadn't meant to come so close. Hermione's breathless, flushed expression caused her cheeks to redden upon inspection. Angry with herself, Fleur shook her head, trying to get rid of the stray thoughts that circled inside her mind. This wasn't the time to be admiring the brunette's beauty. She was a Succubus, ugly on the inside and fake on the out.

And yet, as she watched Hermione, Fleur's expression became distraught. She looked like she was close to tears. Turning her face away from the Succubus, Fleur tried to control the pain, the heart-ache that remained in her chest. The same pain that had affected her back at the Great Hall when she had laid eyes on Hermione.

She had to control her emotions…

The Succubus had tricked her, made her feel this way…

It wasn't real…

Couldn't be real…

Her enemy couldn't be her… her…

No, she refused to say it…

The thought was ludicrous…

This was all a trick designed by Hermione…

She had made her feel this way…

Her feeling were nothing more than an illusion, to blind and trick her…

That was it. This wasn't real…

This wasn't real!

…

Looking up at the Veela, Hermione saw Fleur's shoulders shaking. Her face turned away from view. The soft sounds of a whimper leaving her lips as she held her hands to her face. Hermione remained completely still, shocked to see Fleur was… actually crying. Why was she crying…? She had no reason to cry?

Suddenly, turning to face the Succubus, Fleur's features hardened. "And yet… despite all of the pain you have put my kind through… you continue to torture another Veela! Why?! Does it amuse you! Huh?! To play with my emotions! Do you think it's funny! I had so many dreams about… about… and you!"

Confused, Hermione tried to speak up, but the act of speaking was no longer available to her at this moment. The pain in her throat would not allow the passage of words, only breathing.

"…"

"You were supposed to be my soul mate! Do you have any idea how rare that is!?" Fleur whimpered, tears slipping down her eyes. "I had finally fulfilled a lifelong dream that had escaped my mother and grandmother! I had found my destined one in life! The one person who could make me happy beyond compare! And it was all a lie!"

Tears landed on Hermione's cheeks, her lips… Hazel eyes watching the Veela in shock.

"I was so looking forward to coming back to Hogwarts. I-I wanted to see you again. Make up for my mistakes last year during the Tri-Wizard tournament when I was too scared to approach you. I had so many plans… So many dreams. But it was a lie all along. You were playing with me. You deceived me! Made me fall in love with you! I should have known it was a trick. Should have known this was too good to be true!"

Gritting her teeth, Fleur snapped and began to strangle Hermione with both hands wrapped around her neck. "You are a mistake! Your kind a mistake! I remember seeing a pretty young thing with the potential to become something great! But it was all just another lie! All the talk of you being the brightest witch of your age was a lie!"

"… Please… Ahhh!"

"You manipulated the women of this School, didn't you!? Asked them to spread tales of your brilliance! So you would not be founded by the proper authorities! So that you could hide in plain view of everyone! No one would suspect the great Hermione Granger of being a Succubus, would they!? No, the best friend of Harry Potter couldn't possibly be anything other than human!"

Gasping for breath, hands lifting Fleur's away from her throat, Hermione tried to speak. "I… I… I'm not… What you… Think… I am? I… haven't done anything… to… the students… Of this School!"

"Liar!" Fleur shouted, hands returning to her throat with a maddening glint in her eye. "I've seen the way your friends look at you! The Gryffindor will look at you with longing. The Ravenclaw cannot keep her eyes off you, every time she thinks no one is looking she'll seek you out… and watch your every move. The Slytherin girl will flinch and grimace every time you are touched by someone other than herself. I've seen it all. You tricked them into loving you, just like you tricked me."

"…"

"I will not let you get away with this!" Fleur screamed, lifting Hermione off the ground and pushing her against the wall. "How did you do it?"

"W-What…?" Hermione said, finally free from Fleur's ill treatment.

"How did you hide your essence from me last year?"

Confused, Hermione said nothing and rubbed her throat to ease the pain that was steadily building.

"I should have smelled your essence immediately. Should have known you were a Succubus. But I didn't," Fleur murmured, looking confused. "I-I should have known it was a trick. That you were not my mate. I should have smelled the stench that permeates around you this very minute. But I didn't… How did you do it?"

Ignoring Fleur's words, Hermione rubbed her throat and coughed against the floor, blood trickling from all over her body. "Look, I know you fear me. Fear my kind. But I assure you I won't hurt anyone…"

Angered, Fleur pushed Hermione back against the wall and stepped forward. "I don't believe you! It's in your nature to hunt, feed and kill! There is nothing more to you! You will always succumb to your desires. It is in your nature!"

"Please, listen to me, Fleur. You're right I am a Succubus. But I am only a half-blood. The reason why you didn't smell my essence last year is because that part of me was dormant. It was awakened recently and since then I have kept my Succubus-half under control. I won't fed off anyone. Please believe me, Fleur. I would rather die than harm another soul."

Smiling mockingly, Fleur shook her head. "So very convincing. Your kind always did have a silver tongue. Could talk your way out of anything. Even if you were covered in blood, standing over a dead body with a knife in your hand… you could talk you way out of any suspicions. But I know what you are. I will not be fooled by your deception. Not again. Never again!"

Grabbing Hermione, Fleur tossed the Succubus against the opposing wall. The brunette's light body came crashing down into the brickwork, the wall caving to her form before she slid down and landed in a heap on the floor. Walking towards the bleeding brunette, Fleur pinned her against the floor, a foot placed against her neck.

"Listen to me now Sucky, and listen well. This will be your last warning. Stay away from Beaubaxton Academy and its students. Stay away from me and, more importantly, stay away from my sister. If I ever see you talking or even walking by Gabrielle… I will tear you limb from limb. If you ignore any of my warnings I will, personally, end your life with my own bear hands! Is that understood!?"

"…"

"Beaubaxton might very well banish me for it, the authorities imprison me for killing another student but it would be worth it to rid the world of one more filth," Fleur snarled, never lessening the pressure on Hermione's neck. "And, for the record, my imprisonment wouldn't last long. My family would see fit to release me from my cell and smuggle me away to safety. I would be treated like a Queen by the clans, held up in the highest of honours."

"P…Pl…"

"But I'm giving you one last chance. If I find you have acted upon your desires I will kill you, is that understood, Sucky?"

Grimacing as Fleur's heel dug into her throat, Hermione nodded. "Yes! I-I understand!"

"Good," Stepping over Hermione's throat, Fleur walked towards the exit of the room before turning back to face the brunette. "Make use of this because it will never happen again."

Then, turning, Fleur walked out of the room and out of sight…

…

Watching the Veela leave, Hermione slumped back against the wall, spitting blood from her mouth as the wounds along her body started to heal on their own. This was another advantage of being a Succubus, the ability to heal rapidly would prove useful without a doubt. Sitting up, feeling the bones in her body ache, as only the superficial cuts had healed, Hermione staggered to her feet.

She had just been completely man-handled by Fleur. Her body left scarred and questions were now racing inside her head. But those questions never had time to materialise, as another familiar entity had risen from inside Hermione. One that had hidden itself away from harm only to appear when it was safe to come out… the similarities between the creature and Fleur's story were starting to ring true it seemed.

'**KILL… KILL…. KILL…. SLAUGHTER… TORTURE… PAIN….. HUMILIATE…. KILL….. HER…..'**

Feeling the Succubus raging inside her, Hermione took a moment to calm her shaking legs before walking out of the room and towards the Fat Lady. As she walked the Succubus continued to rage, wanting to tear Fleur limb from limb… So brave it was to speak of this when Fleur was nowhere to be found to hear it. Too scared to face its kin.

But Hermione could feel the honesty hidden within the creatures words, the Succubus wanted Fleur dead and would do so whenever the opportunity arose.

…

….

With or without its masters approval.

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><p>.<p>

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Author's Note: Wow! This took longer than expected. I'm going to keep this brief as it is really late at night and I have work early in the morning, but I promised an update and I'll always try to deliver on time. So here you are. I hope you like it, and that the wait for Fleur's inclusion was worth it. I know some people might be concerned about Fleur and Hermione's situation but I assure you…

Fleur will **definitely **be one of the women chasing after Hermione…

It will just take time and I have an entire storyline planned between the two that will exist within the framework of this story…

I really hope you like it because I have been working on it for a long time.

Reviews etc are very much welcomed as always, I'll try to reply to your comments as quickly as I can. But besides from that I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask. I will answer them in a manner that doesn't give away the story or my plans

All the best and thank you for reading!

P.S. I will come back to improve this chapter later on. It is a little rushed near the end because I have a lot to do in the next coming weeks which will take up a lot of my time. Also, a quick question: would any of you prefer it if I made Fleur speak in broken English… i.e. saying 'z'is' instead of 'this' etc. Or are you fine with how it's written now?

Your answer would be really helpful as I want to nail Fleur's character down to a tee, which would be impossible if the majority believe I am leaving out her accent, inflexion etc. Those sorts of things can make a character separate themselves from the rest. I would be really grateful to hear your opinion.

:D


	14. Chapter 13: Faith in the Youth

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 13: Faith in the Youth

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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**Important Author's Note at the end of this chapter. It will include a number of things that you will have a say on. Your decisions will affect the story going forward. But make sure you read it after this chapter because there are massive spoilers in the Author's Notes below. **

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* * *

><p>.<p>

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"Hermione! HERMIONE!" Ginny called, her fists pounding on the locked door that stood before her. "Hermione! I've had it with this! Open! This! Door! Now!"

"…"

"Hermione!"

"…"

While the sounds of knocking reverberated around the room, the lone figure inside stayed absolutely still. Not a single sound leaving her lips, not a movement to be heard. The banging of the redhead's fists grew in both frequency and intensity, mirroring the pace of her own heartbeat.

'_This is the third time today…'_

'_Why does Ginny persist…?'_

"Come on, Hermione. This isn't funny. You've been cooped up in your room all day."

"…"

Hermione had no words to counter that as Ginny spoke no word of a lie. The 'brightest witch of her age' **had** been cooped up in her room all day, only leaving when it was time for classes to begin. And, the moment those same lessons came to a close, the brunette would sprint out of class ahead of everyone and return to her room. Ginny following, often a few paces behind, in hopes of catching the brunette before she slipped behind a locked door.

"Hermione! Please… Just open up!"

"…"

Hermione's behaviour as of late must have seemed very peculiar, even to those who did not know her well. It was concerning enough that her best friends, Harry and Ron, would regularly seek her out. Whenever they happened to run into each other – before and in between classes – the pair would always stop and ask if everything was alright. Even going so far as to interrupt her focus during lessons with their constant barrage of questions.

'_And they know very well that that is one of my biggest pet peeves…'_

'_God, I love them both but they can be so overbearing…'_

Sighing, Hermione scratched her forehead, thoughts turning to ways that she could smooth over this whole situation without spilling the beans. She could fool Ron with ease - i.e. distract him with food - but Harry and Ginny were another matter entirely. In fact, the latter of the two had a disturbing habit of seeing through any and all of her lies.

This was something that Hermione had picked up early on in their time together. Ginny was far more perceptive then her peers gave her credit for. The young redhead – with startling accuracy – always knew how Hermione was feeling even when she tried to hide it. When she was frustrated, Ginny would often divert traffic so as to give her space. And, when Hermione really wanted to talk or vent, Ginny was on hand to listen to everything and anything.

Which was why – in Hermione's opinion – Ginny's label as being a 'bit of an air-head' amongst her year always struck Hermione as completely untrue. Yes, she would often forget her homework and leave it to the last minute. And, yes, Ginny would often get into arguments with Teachers and other students because she had misinterpreted something. But, when it came down to Hermione Granger, the 'air-headed' Ginny was nowhere to be seen. Ginny could read her like a book.

"Hermione! Come on! It is almost time for dinner! We need to get going!"

"…"

Oh, that reminded Hermione of something.

She had skipped both breakfast and lunch today…

Feeling her stomach rumble at this knowledge, Hermione grimaced and smoothed her stomach. Just… great. That was all she needed. The pain that roamed her body would now be joined by hunger, a deadly and rather unnerving combination. But there was nothing she could do. She couldn't leave. If she left the room they would all know, they would all see.

The concoction hadn't yet boiled; she wouldn't be able to hide the scars.

Tracing the bruise that had settled around her left eye, Hermione gritted her teeth. It was looking much better than before, thanks to her superior healing ability, but it would still be noticeable to the human eye. The only thing that would hide it from her friends, colleagues and the Teaching body was the very potion she was creating.

…

This was why she was in her room so often. Hermione was creating a concoction that would mask all of the visible injuries that now covered her body. There was, however, one downside. The potion in question wasn't particularly powerful. So, while it would soothe and hide most small to moderate pains and injuries, the potions healing properties did not extend to more serious injuries. It would do little to ease the pain that resided along her lower ribs, the dark purple welt along her back would remain also.

Grimacing, as a sharp pain shot through her side, Hermione froze and gritted her teeth, silencing the cry of pain threatening to leave her lips. Everything hurt. It hurt to talk, it hurt to move her face and even walking was causing undue stress. Now, I know what you're thinking. Hermione could have tried a more advanced potion, of course. But that would have required a trip all the way down to Snape's dungeon. The one place Hermione could not go. Even with the invisibility cloak at her use, Hermione knew that entering Snape's prized storeroom would come with severe consequences.

Not only would he find out about her perusing – it was well known that Snape performed an inventory check at the end of each day – but he would also have questions as to why she needed ingredients such as Elfroot and Crystal Grace. And, once Snape asked that question, Hermione would have no way out. Because the ingredients in question could only be used with one sole purpose in mind… the creation and application of advanced healing poultices.

Once that was known Hermione would have no other options. Snape would bring the matter to the Teaching body and they would all realise immediately that she was in pain… and that was when the questions would come. And, as clever and evasive as she was, Hermione knew that Professor McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore would find a way to get the truth out of her.

*Knock* *Knock*

"…"

A loud sigh coming from beyond the door, the knocking suddenly stopped. "Hermione… This is ridiculous. The more you hide, the more suspicious I will be. So why don't you just come out? I know I'm being nosy but I just want to make sure you're okay. That's all."

"…"

"You know," Ginny said, exasperation laced within her words, "One of these days I will catch you before you make it to your dorm. So why prolong the inevitable?"

"…"

"Or, better yet, maybe I won't even go to class. Maybe I will just set up shop here and wait for you to come out. Because believe me, Mione, I can be very patient when I want to be."

Fighting every urge in her body to speak out, Hermione bit her bottom lip and stayed silent. This wasn't fair. She didn't want Ginny to miss classes. No, that was the last thing she wanted for her best friend. Especially at this stage in the redhead's life when academia was so important. She needed to be in class, taking in information to prepare her for life outside of Hogwarts. Ginny should not waste her time here, of all places.

"…"

"Fine," Ginny murmured, the sound of feet stepping away from the door. "I will leave you alone. For Now! You have until tomorrow. And, if I do not see you at any point… then, believe me, I will get serious."

As the redhead's footsteps moved away down the spiralling staircase Hermione moved closer to the door. Every step was careful and measured, soft so as not to alert Ginny to her presence. With an ear pressed against the door, Hermione's breath suddenly stalled when the footsteps came to a stop.

… What was she doing?

… Was she reconsidering?

'_Just go, Ginny, please…'_

'_Everything will be fine tomorrow if you just leave…'_

'…'

'_Please, don't go back on your word…'_

Sighing once more, Ginny spoke. "You know, one of these days I am going to find a way to break down this door and when I do… You better have a very good explanation."

"…"

"And, Hermione… Make sure you eat something. I promise, I will not pester you or come looking for you. So feel free to leave and… and get something to eat. I promise I won't be sitting in wait. Just… Please, look after yourself."

And with that Ginny was gone, walking down the staircase at a pace.

The moment Ginny's footsteps were no more, Hermione let out a drawn out groan. "Shit, ahh."

Clutching her side, Hermione tried to control the pain that was now searing along her rib cage. She had felt the discomfort moments after she had moved towards the door, in the middle of Ginny's warning. It was a stupid mistake. To move so soon after the morning's healing poultice had worn off was amateurish to say the least. And she was now paying for it.

'_At least… You stayed quiet…'_

'_If Ginny had heard you…'_

'_Then there would be no doubting… Ahh!'_

'_She… She would have stayed until I opened the door…'_

'_Would have probably waited outside my door all night, knowing her.'_

Returning to her cauldron, which was now bubbling with a purplish tint, Hermione spent the next few moments checking the consistency of the liquid. Ignoring the throbbing pain as best she could. With shaking fingers Hermione moved the liquid around the cauldron. It looked ready for use. Finally, something was going right for a change.

So, with practised care, Hermione picked up the ladle from beside the cauldron and scooped up the liquid. Then, removing something from her robe, Hermione deposited the liquid into an open flask. Raising the concoction to eye level, and shaking it to see if the potion retained its purplish tint, Hermione smiled. The potion was a success once again, at least she could sleep in only mild discomfort now.

That was a plus, surely.

* * *

><p>.<p>

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With the sound of the bell signalling the end of another Herbology lesson, Hermione grabbed her bag and marched out of the Greenhouse. The sea of passing students - both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw – parting upon sight of her approach. As she left some students murmured their discontent, upset with having been barged against the Greenhouse, while others watched her progress in concern.

'_I've got to go…'_

'… _Have to get out of here…'_

"Hey! Hermione! Wait up!" Ron called, watching Hermione leave while hurriedly throwing things into his bag… including the mandrake which let out an air splitting roar upon entry. "AHH!"

"Weasley! What do you think you're doing!?"

"…"

While Professor Sprout lectured the foolish redhead Harry attempted to move around the crowd. His efforts were met with little success however as, despite his efforts, he now found himself smack-dab in the middle of the pack. This was just typical. He had devised a 'cunning' and 'well thought out' plan of cornering Hermione before she could escape… but the plans success depended heavily on Ron's actions and he seemed…

"What were you thinking!? Did you want a mandrake that much!? Do you think you could care for it!? Feed it!? Bathe it!?"

… Yeah, he seemed pretty preoccupied at the moment.

'_Damn it…'_

'_I'm going to lose her…'_

"Hermione! Wait! Stop for a minute! We just want a word!"

Ignoring her friends with a dismissive wave Hermione continued up the stone path towards Hogwarts Castle. She never once looked back. With each step Hermione's breath laboured, her eyes glistened and her face contorted into an expression of sheer agony. Every bone in her body told her to stop, to ease the pain that roamed within, but Hermione refused to give in.

So she continued, a hand pressed against her stomach where the purple welt lay beneath thin clothing.

'_Oh, shit…'_

'_Why…'_

'_Why did Herbology have to be extended by an hour…?'_

'_The poultice has already started to wear off…'_

'_Ow! Ow! Ahh!'_

To Hermione's credit she had prepared for just this eventuality, her cautious nature proving invaluable once more. As luck would have it she still had one last poultice tucked away, deep, in the depths of her school bag. She just needed to find a place to use it. Some place that offered seclusion and could not be found by the boys…?

…

Slowing to an immediate stop, Hermione bent over, hands gripping her knees, as her lungs begged for much needed air. The simple act of breathing provided no respite however. With each breath her body experienced a new unpleasant sensation. This was no good. She had to deal with it, now. Away from everyone… but where could she go…?

As Hermione's brain worked, small groups of students walked past her but not without a look back in the brunette's direction. Never had they seen Hermione in such a state before; appearing almost sickly to the eye; her hair unruly, her face flushed and matted with sweat.

…

…

Hermione was exhausted, the pain coursing through her body having kept her up most of the night. The bags under her eyes provided further evidence of this. It was no good. This was too much. She needed a break, a small reprieve from the pain. Surely she had earned that.

Surely…

…

(TAP, TAP, TAP)

And so, when Hermione heard a set of footsteps approaching from somewhere nearby, all she could do was look to the heavens in response.

'_Why…?'_

"H-H-Hermione!?" Ron called, very much out of breath.

'_Shit…'_

'_That has to be Ron and Harry…'_

'_Gotta move…'_

Standing straight, with great effort, Hermione looked back and saw her two favourite boys approaching at a sprint. This was just typical of her luck. She had dallied and now, as a result, they would catch her.

They would catch her and then the truth would come out. About what happened. About how she came to acquire these bruises and scars. Everything.

…

…

No! She couldn't allow that. If they managed to prise the truth out of her, if she showed them the scars… then Hermione had no doubts what would follow. Harry would have taken this information to Professor McGonagall, against Hermione's wishes, and possibly even to the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Which, looking at it objectively, would have been the right thing to do.

But Ron… Ron would not have gone down such a diplomatic route. Hermione knew him too well. He would have attacked Fleur whether she was ready for it or not. He would get himself expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… and all over such a small, insignificant matter.

No, she couldn't allow that…

… She had to get away.

… But where to…?

…

'_Think Hermione…'_

'_Think!'_

'_Somewhere they can't go…?'_

'_Somewhere they can't find m…?'_

And that was when it clicked. The answer was so clear, so obvious. So much so that Hermione was disappointed in herself for not thinking of it earlier. How had she not realised before…?

What place was more secluded or safer than…?

…

…

… Than Moaning Myrtle's bathroom…?

…

It was the perfect solution and, most importantly of all, it also happened to be nearby.

So, with one last look around, Hermione took the stairs two at a time and moved along the first floor corridor. The sounds of Harry and Ron's footsteps falling and growing ever closer.

"Hermione! Wait! Would you just… talk to us, please!?" Harry called, moving up the stairs in pursuit.

Taking a moment to figure out where he was, Harry immediately deduced Hermione's plan and, in response to this, pushed his body forward. "Hermione! Wait! I know what you're thinking… but just let us talk to…"

"…"

As she struggled to turn the corner, legs throbbing, Hermione suddenly saw the most welcoming sight she could have ever imagined…

…

Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was only a few steps away, safety well within sight.

And so, with this realisation slowly starting to dawn on her, Hermione sprinted towards the bathroom. Her timing impeccable as the scars along her face and forearm started to reveal themselves, the poultice having now worn off completely.

As Hermione moved forward the purple bruise over her left eye returned blurring her vision, at first, only for it to be consumed by darkness shortly thereafter. With every pained step Hermione groaned inwardly, legs aching and throbbing as she forced them to move faster. And then… the sound of Harry moving around the corner could be heard, the sound filling her with dread.

'_Please don't catch me…'_

'_I'm so close…'_

'_Please let me go…'_

…

"Hermione!?"

…

… She was almost there.

…

… Just a few more steps.

…

"Hermione! Wait!"

…

… She was so close now.

…

… So close.

…

*Huff**Huff*

…

"Don't you go in that room!?" Ron shouted.

…

… But it was too late.

…

With one last burst of energy, Hermione threw open the bathroom door and closed it behind her.

…

She had made it…

…

Collapsing against the door, her legs giving way, Hermione slid down its wooden surface. A sigh of relief passing as her chest moved rapidly. She was safe. Harry and Ron could not reach her. The door could not be opened by a man and, even if they did get a female student to open it, they boys would be unable to pass the threshold.

This new spells creation had been overseen by Professor McGonagall after the lone resident, Moaning Mytle, had complained that certain male students had attempted to harass her. It was, apparently, a popular game played by the youngest male students of the School. The aim; to see who could stay in the bathroom the longest after they had enraged the easily provoked ghost.

Hermione had heard bits and pieces of the story from Ron, Harry and the like. The entire School had even been addressed by Professor McGonagall about this very rumour that had spread to all corners of the School. All male students had been given specific instructions to stay away from the bathroom or they would face severe consequences. That threat alone had stopped any further incidents.

Which meant that the bathroom would almost certainly be free…

Another great thing about this bathroom was that sound could not pass through it. Which was why, when a sharp stab of pain forced itself into her side, Hermione let out an agonising scream.

The run here had made all her symptoms far worse. She needed to apply the poultice or she would, most likely, pass out from the pain. So, crawling on all fours, Hermione dragged herself towards the sinks, her bag scraping along the floor behind her. She had no energy left. The pain had robbed her of everything. So, she scratched and clawed her way forward, using the sinks to help her stand up straight.

And, when she looked into the mirror, Hermione's heart immediately sank …

'_Oh god…'_

'_I look terrible…'_

'_Better than yesterday but…'_

'…'

'_Gaahh!'_

'_When will these bruises go away…?'_

Throwing her bag on top of the sink, Hermione leaned forward, taking a moment to regain her breath, sweat falling onto the ground from her forehead. Hmm. This was nice. The simple act of not moving made the pain around her body still. It would be so easy to stay like this for a long, long while. To let the pain ebb away into nothing… but Hermione didn't have the time. In exactly one hour, her next lesson would start.

She had no choice, she needed to attend. To show everyone that everything was fine, that she was healthy and untroubled. Then everything would go back to normal. She would tell Harry, Ron and Ginny some convenient story and then everything would return to normal. No questions. No suspicions. She would avoid Fleur as she… requested. And everything would be alright again.

So, with this belief firmly in place, Hermione removed her jacket and tie before moving onto her shirt. Taking her time to undo all of the buttons – as her fingers were still shaking – Hermione removed her shirt, placed it on the sink on top of all her other clothes and looked in the mirror.

The sight sickened her. She looked abused, battered and beaten. The bruises making her look like she had somehow been spliced with alien DNA.

'_At least my clothes hide the worst of it…'_

Taking no more time to analyse her appearance, Hermione opened her bag and removed the poultice from within. The liquid was in perfect condition. A part of her honestly believed that it might have broken or spilled in her bag, knowing her luck. But no it was perfect and fully intact.

So, stepping back from the sink, Hermione opened the vial and spread the slimy mixture onto her hands. Then, when the mixture had properly congealed – after reacting to the atmosphere – Hermione spread it across her ribs. Taking her time, as the concoction would burn any untarnished skin, Hermione spread the gel all over her affected areas. Its healing properties on full display as the mixture massaged and soothed her troubled areas.

…

A feeling of relief spread through her. The potion had done its job.

The potion was so effective that even Hermione couldn't help but smile when she looked back in the mirror and saw the scars along her face and shoulders had disappeared. She looked almost normal. Back to the way she was, if not for the prominent bruise across her ribs and lower back.

But still… this was an improvement.

'_At least the worst is finally over…'_

'_Nothing more could possibly go wrong…'_

…

…

And, just as she thought these exact words, the door to the bathroom suddenly opened.

'_OH, COME ON!'_

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Realising her predicament – i.e. her upper clothing removed and a bruise clear for all to see – Hermione grabbed her stuff from the sink and sprinted to a nearby stall. Just as she entered the small cubicle, Hermione heard the sound of the bathroom door being closed… with a surprising gentleness.

Stepping as far back from the cubicle door as was possible, Hermione stilled her breath and listened. After a few passing moments of silence footsteps could be heard, sounding distant and yet never drawing closer. When the footsteps stopped, some distance away, Hermione became worried. Why were they just standing still? Where they looking for her?

Senses heightened, Hermione removed her wand from the pocket of her school robes and waited.

…

…

*Turn**Turn*

'_What…?'_

Before Hermione could question the noise, which had a strange squeaky quality, the sound of water followed shortly after. Sighing in exasperation Hermione returned her wand to her pocket. What the hell was wrong with her? She had been fretting over nothing.

It was just water. The sound earlier had been the taps being turned, whoever had entered had probably needed to clean her hands or something. It was nothing to do with her. She had been anxious over nothing.

'_Wow…'_

'_What is with me today…?'_

Sitting completely still, Hermione relaxed and waited for the other occupant of the room to leave. But when the facet was turned off and the sound of water could be heard no more… no sounds of footsteps followed. There was no sound at all.

"…"

Then, just as Hermione was about to lean down and looked under the cubicle, soft footsteps could be heard once more. Only… they weren't directed towards the exit. No. They were coming… closer. The soft footfalls were approaching her cubicle, on a direct course in fact. Straightening her posture and lifting her feet onto the seat, Hermione watched as a shadow passed over the cubicle.

"…"

Before she could act, Hermione watched as the shadow widened – the image of two legs being replaced by a strange blob. Concerned Hermione's was about to reach into her robes when… a soft, angelic voice could be heard beyond the door.

"H-Her-Hermione?"

"…"

Refusing to answer, Hermione remained silent, ears perked as the shadowy figure seemed to rest against the door of the cubicle. Suddenly, the shadowy figure was replaced to a figure wearing clothes of… blue? Hermione could only see the side of the figure underneath the cubicle, a dainty white hand pressed against the floor.

'_Blue…?'_

'_She's wearing blue…?'_

'…'

'_She must be from Beaubaxton…?'_

'_But I don't know anyone from Beaubaxton…?'_

'_Except for…'_

"Um," The figure stuttered, breaking Hermione's concentration. "Hermione? I-Is that you?"

"…"

"Hermione, please. I promise you. I am not here to hurt you. Or to… pry… into your business. I only want to make sure you're okay…?"

"…"

Sighing, the figure behind the door moved closer, a hand pressed against it.

"I understand," The girl whispered, voice soft and beautiful to Hermione's ears. "You don't have to speak. I will not force you to do anything. But please. Please, if you can, please just… listen."

"…"

"I-I… I am so, so sorry about my sister," The girl pleaded, sounding nothing but genuine. "I know what she did and… and I'm sorry."

"… Who… Who are you?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding croaky due to ill use.

"My name is Gabrielle. And… my sister… my sister is… Fleur Delacour."

"…"

Eyes widening at the name, Hermione did not reply. She wanted nothing to do with Fleur. Not only for her safety but for Fleur's as well. In recent days the Succubus had been begging Hermione to use her intellect and imagination to harm the Veela. To maim and even torture if necessary. The Succubus hated the woman… wanted her dead and buried.

But Hermione resisted… to such an effect that the Succubus had been silent for the majority of the day. Not a word or sound had been uttered by the creature. There was nothing. Just her thoughts… and silence.

"Hermione?"

"…"

Sighing once again at the silent treatment, Gabrielle continued. "I know what Fleur did to you. I-I know she hurt you, badly. But please… please believe me when I say that that is not the kind of person Fleur is. I-If you knew her like I did… then you would know Fleur is a loving, kind and compassionate person. Yes, she can be cold at times, and proud beyond belief, but I promise you. I promise you that Fleur has never been violent in her life."

"…"

"I-I don't even know how it happened? Fleur has never done so much as raise her voice to me. Even when I deserved far more. She has never harmed anyone in her life but… but I think I know why she did it."

"… Why… Why did she do it then…?" Hermione asked, the urge to talk with this girl was strangely overwhelming.

Smiling, Gabrielle placed her hands in her lap and continued. "Because she couldn't control the Veela inside her."

"…"

"You know," Gabrielle murmured, thinking of something. "Veela and the Succubae are not too dis-similar. We both succumb to certain cravings, we both struggle to control are emotions and… and when we make a mistake… we create distance rather than resolve it ourselves."

"W-What do you mean…?"

"Ever since… Ever since the day Fleur attacked you… she has not been the same. She looks so… so pitiful. Nothing like the sister I have known for years. Even her friends and the rest of the School have noticed it," Gabrielle said, a hint of sadness entering her voice. "She hasn't smiled all day… barely eats any food… and… and every time I see her… she looks sad, hurt even. And it is all because of what happened between you."

"…"

"I know my sister very well, Hermione. She regrets hurting you so very, very much. She regrets not being able to control the Veela when it realised you were a Succubus and not a human like it had believed. For so long Fleur has talked about you. You were the one thing she talked about when we were here for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. In fact, this might be rude of me to say, and I apologise if it is, but I honestly believe that your presence cost her the Tri-Wizard tournament."

Surprised, Hermione sat up straighter. "W-Why do you say that…?"

"I-I-I can't say too much, Hermione. I think I may have already said more than I should. But… But I can tell you this. Despite the pressures of the Tri-Wizard tournament. Despite the pressure of all of Beaubaxton riding on her shoulders… and despite the pressure of her upcoming exams. The one and only thought that entered her mind… was you."

"…"

"She cares about you deeply, Hermione. Has cared about you since the beginning of last year. You have no idea how rare that is. Fleur does not make friends easily, does not feel emotions like most women or creatures her age. So, when she spoke about you at such length and… and became so nervous that she avoided you for the rest of the Tri-Wizard tournament. That moment… became one of the happiest moments of my life."

"…"

"My sister loves me Fleur. She loves our father and our mother too. But she has never felt so deeply for someone outside of the family. You gave my sister a new experience of life… an experience that we all share… but for Fleur… this was the first time she has ever felt like this. So, please. All I ask is that you give her time because, if you do, then you will see the woman I have been talking about. The woman who has loved, sheltered and protected me all my life."

"…"

"I know I am being unreasonable. To make you forget about all the things she has done to you. But I love my sister. I want her to be happy and I honestly believe that, if you give her a chance, she will prove to be a loving, compassionate person."

Processing all this information, Hermione moved towards the door and rested against it. Even through the door Hermione could feel a wondrous warmth spreading through it, soothing her battered body. Eyes closed, Hermione smiled and turned her body towards the figure who was opening her heart.

"Oh," Gabrielle suddenly stuttered, fracturing the tender moment. "And I will make Fleur apologise to you. In front of Beaubaxton and Hogwarts if I must. She might be my sister and I might love her dearly but… I… I couldn't control myself when she told me what she did. I could not understand why she attacked you so I shouted and berated her."

"…"

"But… that doesn't matter now. Hermione, I will make her apologise to you one way or another. She might not like it, being so proud and all, but I know her… She will do it if there is even the smallest chance that you two can become… become f-friends."

Overwhelmed by the compassion of this beautiful girl, Hermione couldn't help but ask. "Why… Why would you do so much for her? For me, even? I'm a Succubus. Aren't we supposed to be the enemy? Why do you trust me so much?"

As the last words left her lips silence followed. Hermione's feeling of tranquillity suddenly starting to turn to worry. No sound came from beyond the door, and yet the warmth remained just as it had before. So, why was Gabrielle not speaking…?

…

…

"…"

Breathing in a sigh, Gabrielle reached underneath the cubicle and, with an incredibly soft touch, rested her palm atop Hermione's. A gasp of surprise left the other side, Hermione not expecting the contact yet cherishing it all the same. When the brunette did not remove her hand or tremble, Gabrielle prepared to speak.

"Because I trust you, Hermione. I don't know why but I just do. I know you are a Succubus, Hermione. The same creatures that betrayed us, Veela, and killed our most precious Queen's daughter but… but I sense nothing but kindness in you. Even in my short time here, last year, I could see how kind and caring you were. You have a good heart and a kind soul. I believe that even the most cunning and sinister of Succubae will fall prey to your compassion and strong sense of morals. I have always considered myself a good judge of character… and I believe… without a shadow of a doubt… that you are the best of all of us."

Taken aback by the compliment, Hermione gently squeezed Gabrielle's hand and smiled when the actions was returned. Watching as Gabrielle's fingers traced her palm, Hermione was surprised when the same fingers pulled away from her. In a rather feeble attempt Hermione tried to reclaim them but the cubicle door stopped her progress.

"I'm sorry Hermione but I have to go. I hope that next time we meet face to face rather than behind a locked door. But, until that day, I will say my goodbyes. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Hermione Granger. Please think over what I have said. And, I promise, sometime during the week… you will see Fleur and she will apologise to you. Until then."

And, before Hermione could say another word, the door to the bathroom opened and closed behind the retreating blonde. Heart fluttering Hermione stood up and opened the door to the cubicle, eyes turning to the entrance of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom where Gabrielle had been seconds ago.

"Gabrielle…" Hermione whispered, the name bringing euphoria to her being. A hand rising to her chest, just above her heart, as she thought of the young girl

…

…

'_Gabrielle…'_

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_._

_._

Pacing, back and forth in front of his desk, Albus Dumbledore looked towards the only other figure in the room. He was angry, his face stern and more expressive then it had ever been. Very rarely did he get this upset but, then again, very rarely does he come across a situation like this. He had to stay calm, hear her out. Maybe she had reason, some ulterior but understandable motive. There had to be a reason for this sheer stupidity. Surely.

"Why?" Albus asked, pacing to a stop in front of the individual.

"Why, what?"

"Why did you allow this to happen? I promised… I promised not to interfere under the condition that you would protect her. So, how… How could you allow the clans to use her like this. Your own daughter."

Unperturbed by the man's reaction, as it had not been unexpected, Rose did nothing more than look at Professor Dumbledore. Not even the slightest effort was made to answer his question. To many the simple refusal to answer one of Albus' question would have been unthinkable. And, to many other fanatics, reason enough for Albus to take out his wand.

Of course, she knew that, if a battle ever did come to pass, Albus would have beaten her hands down but that didn't negate her cocky nature. She knew this man too well, after all. He was not quick to anger, and was even slower to violence. She could behave as she normally did and nothing would come of it.

…

Sensing that Rose would not answer, Albus rubbed his forehead. "Rose, I am a patient man… But if you do not explain yourself I will have no choice but to enter renegotiations with the Succubae council."

Surprised, Rose unfurled her hands, panic setting into her features. "Albus you can't. I am the only one who can guide her down the right path. You know this. Remove me and Hermione is as good as dead, or worse."

"I know. You say you are here to protect your daughter but I have yet to see it. From the very beginning you have placed her in danger and I have remained quiet. But no more. I believed Hermione would be safe in your care but she is in more danger than before. So, explain. Otherwise I will ask that the council removes you from my premises."

Gritting her teeth, unsure whether Albus was playing her or not, Rose conceded. "Very well. Ask. I will answer as much as is permitted. But I will not reveal the entirety of my plans to you. That much will stay with me. Agreed?"

"Agreed. Now, explain, why have you done nothing to protect Hermione? Why have you not instructed her in the ways of your kind?"

Sighing, Rose answered. "I have no choice. I am under strict instructions. This is a part of Hermione's test. That is all I can say on the matter."

"Very well," Albus replied, nodding in understanding. "Then answer me this. Where does your allegiances lie? To the clan? Or to your own daughter?"

"Can they not lie with both? I love my daughter deeply but understand that certain… concessions must be made to ensure the clans survival. Hermione could be the tipping point for us Succubae. I will not endanger the clan because of… because of my motherly feelings."

"So your undecided. You love your daughter yet you would willingly throw her to the wolves."

Angered by this, Rose moved towards Albus, eyes glowing a fierce orange once again. "I have not thrown my daughter to the wolves. I believe she will pass this test and come out stronger because of it. My daughter may have my corrupted blood, yes, but she also has Ellen's blood. Which is why she is stronger and more resilient then even you realise. I gave my daughter warning, guidance and then… and then I did what the Clans demanded. For the sake of the Clans survival. And… And to prepare her for what is to come."

Sitting in his chair, Albus joined his fingers on the table and inspected the woman in front of him. "There was never a Death Eater attack in France was there…?"

Surprised, Rose closed her mouth and refused to speak. How did he reach that conclusion? What had she given away?

"I always wondered why Beaubaxton's attackers were never found. Why they never harmed a single, witch or wizard. Why their Glacier was melted rather than destroyed," Albus stated, pointing at Rose. "You knew I would be forced to take them in. That was what you meant by 'what is to come.'"

Laughing, Albus straightened his posture. "The one species that hates the Succubae more than humans… would be the Veela. The one's who protected and sheltered you. This is a part of Hermione's test, isn't it?"

"It is a part, yes, but I will speak no more about this. The information is confidential even to you, Albus."

"So, the clans wished for Beaubaxton to be present during Hermione's growth," Mulling this information over, Albus came to a realisation. "Oh, I see. So, the clan wishes her to be tested against the most difficult of tests. If she can overcome the forbidden urges of the Veela, then Hermione will be able to withstand anything. She will also be able to control her Succubae far better than before. But, why? What could be more dangerous than the Veela…? What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know how you've gained this much information but I am warning you Albus don't reach out too far, you might not see the axe being wielded overhead." Rose threatened, eyes glowing fiercer still.

"Fine, I will leave those thoughts for another time," Albus said, looking back at Rose with little concern for his safety. Any lesser man would have flinched from the Succubae's glare and been shaken by the immense power hidden within, but not Albus. The man was still as composed as he ever was.

"So," Albus continued. "I may not agree with it but a small part of me can understand leaving Hermione to fend for herself. But what troubles me is why you did not leap to her aid when Beaubaxton's own Fleur Delacour attacked your daughter unprovoked."

"H-How did you…?"

"Nothing happens inside my walls that I don't know about. I have been given the important responsibility to protect the students while they are away from home and I take that very seriously. I might often make concessions for certain students but I will always keep an eye on them. So, why did you not come to your daughter's aid when she needed you?"

"Because," Rose muttered, hands tightening with every passing second. "Because she had to know what vile filth the Veela are."

"You still hate the Veela for what happened don't you…?" Albus murmured, interrupting Rose half way through her speech.

"Yes… I will never forgive them for what they did to me," Rose whispered, heaving a sigh. "And I needed Hermione to see them for exactly what they are. So I allowed that vile shit to harm my daughter. It was a confrontation that was bound to happen eventually and a lesson Hermione needed to learn. She had to know the truth."

"And what is the truth, Rose?"

"That the Veela are vermin, nothing more and nothing less."

Mulling over the information he had gained in the last five minutes, Albus shook his head. While aspects of Rose's story explained a great… the vast majority did not. Albus had known Rose quite well and she was a very cheerful and loving person. She was not the kind of person to cage her own daughter, to allow abuse and punishment to be sustained on her body. Especially since Rose had been so proud and overjoyed the day Hermione had been born.

None of this was making sense.

"This still doesn't make any sense," Albus continued, scratching his beard. "I know you love your daughter and yet you are willing to let her suffer alone. You have all the answers to Hermione's questions, answers that are given to all Succubae when they are young, and yet you and the clans refuse to give them. Surely answering Hermione's questions would improve her chances? So why do you avoid her at every turn?"

Laughing quietly, Rose crossed her legs and folded her arms. "You know for a man who loves to speak in riddles and hide the truth from people… you don't much like it when you're not the one holding the facts."

"…"

"There is reason for why Hermione has to learn the ways of the Succubae on her own. And reason still to why I have allowed her to hear the tale from the perspective of the Veela. All will become clear in time good friend. But for now I will say no more."

Standing from his seat, Albus moved towards the phoenix which had been hooting in his direction. "I understand. But still… I am surprised you have allowed your daughter to mingle with a Veela. Especially since you are the one responsible for the death of so many of their kind and yours. What if they realise who Hermione really is, who she is related to? Do you think the Veela will not act on this, will not seek to avenge the death of the Queen's only daughter?"

Rose remained silent, teeth gritted as she attempted to control herself. She could not come to blows with Albus, she knew that but every fibre of her being wanted to shut him up. He shouldn't have gone there. That was still a very raw topic, a deep cut that would never stop bleeding.

"Rose, I know you mean well, but your plans never come to pass. The Succubae line is dying, orchestrated by your hand whether intentional or not. Do you really think you will have another chance after this? If Hermione dies… your clan dies too."

"You think I don't know that. You're not telling me anything I have not already told myself," Rose said, exasperated by the constant questions. "And as for tales of my past. You should know better than most. Don't believe everything you see, hear or read. Not everything they say about me is true."

"Would you care to elaborate then? Maybe I would better understand your reasons if you just…. helped me to understand?"

"No, Albus. My actions are my own and I do not have to explain myself to anyone. I can live with my mistakes and while I have made many… I can safely say that the ones you have heard about hold no semblance of truth."

"Then why don't you correct them? Explain to them that…?"

"Because I don't want to nor do I have to. I do not care for other people's opinions. I don't care what they call me. It means nothing to me. They can continue to talk all they want and I will not speak into a vacuum of noise. No one would hear me. I have far pressing matters to deal with, such as my daughter."

"…"

Sitting back in his chair, Albus prepared himself. The one question he needed answering was about to leave his lips, he only hoped Rose would answer him honestly. It was, of course, still possible that Rose was not aware of this fact. Whatever happened next would sway his next actions.

"Rose?"

"Yes." Rose answered, sitting up straight as Albus stared at her with an intensity she was unused to seeing.

…

…

"Let us pretend that I accept and understand the mountain of obstacles you have placed in front of Hermione. Beaubaxton, the woman of Hogwarts School and even the Siren that now presides in the lake. Let us pretend that I will go along with whatever plan you and your clan have for her without complaint."

"…"

"I will accept all those things without grumble. But there is one thing. One thing I cannot and will not ever understand or accept."

Gulping, Rose spoke up. "And what would that be?"

…

…

"Why did you bring the Succubae's mate to my School!?"

"… You knew?"

"Of course I knew. I sensed her the moment she passed through the entrance of my School. What the hell are you playing at? Hermione is nowhere near ready to face the Succubae at its full potential. The moment Hermione sees her the Succubus will take control of her. Why would you allow such a risk this early on?"

"Because Hermione would have to face her sooner or later. And, with her arrival, Hermione's true test can begin. The Succubus will not be able to control itself which is why it will be up to Hermione to do so instead. We believe that they will both be able to resist their cravings for one another, if one fails the other will succeeded. They are both strong willed and can't resist temptation, Albus. Have a little belief in our methods."

Processing this new information, Albus shook his head. "This is not you Rose. I cannot understand this no matter what you say. Your lips move and yet I can tell that they are not your words. This is Ellen's daughter, the woman you love gave birth to her and yet to see you neglect her like this. This is not you."

"Do you think I have much choice in the matter, Albus?" Rose asked, rubbing stray hairs out of her eyes in frustration. "I might be considered a legend by my people but I am also the reason why they live in hiding. I was banished from the clan for six years only to be reinstated when they learned of the birth of the first natural born baby in so, so many years. I was brought back because of the birth of my child, nothing more. My reach can only go so far, if I was to disobey them… they would take her from me and she would succumb to the Succubae's wants. I cannot let them have her, I cannot let them screw this up."

"…"

"I have no choice. The prophecy must be followed to the letter. Or I risk the lives of every Succubi across the world," Rose said, motioning hopelessly. "Listen to me Albus, I love my daughter deeply but I must do what is best for the clan. I must do what they say as they are the only ones who can read the prophecy. I have never seen it myself, I cannot read the old tongue but that is because I am not as old as the council. So, if they tell me that Hermione needs to be surrounded by danger then… that is what I must do."

"And if she should turn?" Albus asked, face passive, no hint of anger or hurt present. "What then?"

"Then… Then I would kill her myself."

"… And if you should fail?"

Sighing deeply, Rose looked straight into Albus' eyes. "I won't… I've done it once and I will do it again if I must."

Standing up from her seat Rose nodded her head to the Professor and walked towards the revolving staircase. Her progress, however, was halted when Albus' voice trailed behind her. "Where are you going…?"

"I have one thing left to do before I depart."

Confused, Albus moved around his desk and towards the Succubae. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing. It is simply time."

"Time for what…?"

"It is time Hermione learned about her birth, about me and… and about Ellen."

Surprised, Albus remained speechless as Rose walked down the spiral staircase. His mind processing the information he had no expected to hear.

"Are you sure?" Albus called, stepping onto the top stair. "This will scar Hermione for the rest of her life. Once she knows… nothing good will come of it. Nothing will change. She can't be saved Rose. Ellen can't be saved."

"… I know." Rose murmured, stopping in her tracks halfway down the spiral staircase. "But Hermione deserves to know the truth. I need to tell her before she hears it from someone else. I won't allow anyone to sully Ellen's name. She doesn't deserve that. Not after everything she went through. Not after what I put her through."

"…"

"Ellen suffered so much, she struggled and… and… and," Rose whispered, the words becoming harder to articulate as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Hermione can hate me. She can wish me dead and curse at my very name. But not Ellen. Never Ellen."

And, with those final words, Rose proceeded down the stairs and towards Hermione's secret room.

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**Author's Notes:** I am so, so sorry for the delay. I made a huge mistake a couple of months ago, I was supposed to update this story with an Author's Note explaining why I would be gone for the next couple of months but something must have happened during processing. I thought it had been uploaded to the story but only now do I realise it didn't.

I am so sorry about that. But the reason why I have been gone for so long is becoming a very rare opportunity presented itself and I had to take it. Basically for the past seven months or so I have been working on an original story alongside someone who has quite a few published novels already. I can't mention their name because they would rather not be mentioned yet but they are quite talented. No one massive or mind blowing but relatively popular in his chosen area.

Now, we only just finished the first draft of the entire story and, over the coming months, we will look to refine and make the piece more presentable. It's a work I am very proud of as I came up with quite a few scenes that I think are very powerful. I only lack the talent to write them which is where my new friend comes in :D

We are looking to use a publisher to publish the work but if that proves unsuccessful then we might just release it for free. I will leave that part of writing to the professionals though, my friend has an agent who deals with all that stuff so I can just sit back and relax.

Now as for my Fan Fic writing… I am back. I have always found editing the easiest part of writing so my Fan Fic writing will not be disrupted by this in any way. My plan is to update this story first, which I have, then cycle between this story and Empty Places every couple of weeks.

So, now that the explanation for my disappearance is out of the way, I can move onto topics involving The Succubus. And, let me tell you, the next chapter will reveal a lot of things about Hermione, Ellen and Rose. You will hear the entire story without cliff hangers or anything. It is a very big chapter in this story. In truth Rose and Ellen's story has been pushed forward due to the lengthy delay. The change in placement will not, however, affect the overall flow to the story which is important. I just thought you deserved something more substantial than what I had previously had planned for this story before the delay happened.

Oh, also, last point of the day. I am going to introduce two new polls on my profile page which will have significant important to the story going forward.

One). Who should Hermione end up with in the Succubus?

And, Two). Would you prefer the story to have futanari elements, just have normal sex or should I include tail sex as well?

Now, the first question will not decide Hermione's final partner, I have to be clear about that… but it will help shape the next couple of chapters. If I know who the favourite is then I could write to further that particular plot, i.e. your favourite character will get more time and sex scenes with Hermione.

The seconds question will decide the next step though because I honestly can't write three different chapters with how busy I am nowadays. I know I promised it but that was before I was swamped was things to do.

I look forward to hearing from you all and I hope you will offer your opinions on this story in a review. I love to hear from all of you and your instructions, criticisms and praise can only help this story improve. Thank you all and I hope you enjoyed The Succubus :D

P.S. Apologies for the writing on this one as it isn't what I had hoped for. Every time I look at it I feel really uneasy. I'm hoping this will improve in time but I guess only time will tell.


	15. C14 P1: Where it all began!

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Harry Potter

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The Succubus

By Miracles79

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Chapter 14 Part 1: Where it all began!

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Disclaimer: The characters used in this Fan Fic are owned by JK Rowling and Warner Brother Studios (I think?) and are merely used in appreciation of the original author's incredible work. I own nothing apart from the story contained within these words, if that.

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"Ah! Careful!" A tender voice spoke, it's caution masked by the forest which huddled and surrounded the two lone figures. "Seriously, Rose. Would you stop looking at me and focus on where you're going? You almost walked into the swamp."

Laughing the other figure – Rose - turned towards her companion, a hand outstretched to allow for safer passage over the collapsed tree in their path. "I can't help myself, sweetie. You are so very beautiful, after all. How could I resist another look?"

Sighing, a hand reaching to brush long strands of hair away from her eyes, the other figure took a step forward. And, in that moment, time crawled to a standstill. For within that moment a single lone strain of light had managed to force its way through the dense forest and come to rest upon her divine figure. Rose was utterly speechless, her eyes wide and mouth agape as this angel of perfection turned its eyes towards.

"Eh, Rose?" The figure murmured, watching in both wonder and confusion, unsure as to why her significant other would be staring at her so intently. "Rose? Eh, hello!? Rose? You're doing it again."

Despite the woman's insistence, Rose could find no words to offer in reply. Rose had seen her companion a hundred times over and yet the mere sight of her could leave her breathless much like the first time they had laid eyes on each other.

The light managed to somehow magnify her already heavenly-like features; her long, sleek blonde hair appeared to glow and sparkle in the thin strands of sun light. Her milk white, unblemished complexion making her appear like an angel descended from the heavens. Her soft, pink lips even more noticeable than before. And those bright brown eyes…

…

…

Rose stood still, drinking in a sight which she felt completely unworthy of. As if this beautiful woman was not meant to be seen by humans or magical creatures alike, misplaced by the gods to fall at her feet by mere chance. She felt inferior, unsuited to even exist on the same plain of existence. But all those things – all those doubts and insecurities - could not stop her from watching the young and beautiful woman. No power in the verse could stop her from watching.

…

"Rose? You know I don't like the silent treatment. What's going on? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Licking her lips, as they had long since dried, Rose moved towards her companion and placed a palm against her cheek. The action was welcomed by the other figure who smiled and held the palm against her cheek, rubbing it affectionately. Almost losing herself in the moment, Rose shook her head and spoke… her hand still pressed against her partner's cheek.

"It's nothing. You just… You look beautiful. As always, my love." Rose smiled, facing heating as her partner blushed and looked affectionately up at her. "Come, let's go. A few more steps and we'll reach the end of the forest. And then… I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise," The figure groaned, suddenly having second thoughts. "Why do I suddenly feel wary."

"…"

"Rose. This had better not be a repeat of last week." She said, noticing Rose's sudden silence.

"…"

"Rose… You didn't bring me here to continue where we left of last week, did you?"

"N-No," Rose replied, uneasy. Eyes turning in every direction and away from her partner despite the woman's attempts at keeping eye contact. "O-Of… Of course not."

"Rose!?"

Glowing red, Rose lowered her hand. "I'm not. I promise. And, in any case, I thought… I thought you liked my surprise. You seemed very satisfied when I…"

"Rose!" The blonde woman spluttered, a finger pointing in warning. "Another word and I will make you suffer. You remember what happened the last time you annoyed me, don't you?"

Rose gulped, fear consuming her being at the mere suggestion of that cruel and unusual punishment.

'_No…'_

'_Not again, please…'_

'_I can't go through that again…'_

'_Ever…'_

"No, please, anything but that…" Rose begged, legs buckling as she kneeled against the floor, hands gripping at her partner's waist.

Smirking, the figure moved into Rose's personal space and wagged her finger. "Good. So, we will make no mention of… of… that. And I won't have to ban you from touching me for a week. Deal?"

"A deal! A hundred times over!" Rose shouted, kissing the blonde woman's fingers one at a time.

"Hey, get off," The figure murmured, her middle finger currently occupying Rose's mouth and tongue. The sight of her finger slipping between Rose's dark red lips sent heat rising to her cheeks but she fought the sensation down. She didn't want to seem to obvious, after all. She might be completely and utterly infatuated by Rose. But she didn't need to know that quite yet.

"Eww! Now I'm going to have to clean and sanitise my finger because of you. I hope you're happy now."

Cleaning off her finger on her silk dress, the figure was not surprised to see – when she looked up – Rose's wounded puppy dog eyes staring back at her. Rose was so very cute, if not a little manipulative. But she had Rose's number, both knew it and both accepted it. Rose had never been of the submissive variety in any of her previous relationships but her partner just… brought that side out of her. And she, secretly, loved it. There was very little Rose wouldn't do for the woman she loved.

…

Feeling a little compassionate towards her moping lover, the figure stepped forward and inched her lips closer to Rose's ear. "Don't you worry, beautiful. There will be time for that later. BUT… only if you behave. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. Understood, ma'am." Rose replied, saluting with an expression of sheer focus and determination.

Laughing, the young blonde woman playfully slapped her companion away. "What's with all this ma'am nonsense? I'm younger than you, for god sake. If anyone is an old lady, it would be you, Rose."

Looking at the young blonde with mock-irritation, Rose raised a quizzical eye brow. "Actually, while you might have been born after me, sweetie, I am still younger officially younger than you."

Perplexed, the blonde woman stopped all progress and turned to stare back at Rose in question. "What are you talking about? That makes no sense. How can you be younger than me when you were born after me?"

"Because," Rose continued as if she had never been interrupted. "If we are going by Veela years and Succubi years… then I would be considered the youngest of the two of us."

"What?"

"There are four more months in the Succubae calendar, darling. Compared to you - Veela - who still adhere to the human's twelve-month time span. Therefore, I would be younger than you, Sophia. I hate to break it to you but that would make you the old lady in this relationship."

Sophia could only watch – her eyes narrowed and scathing – as her lover proceeded to dance and cheer loudly before giving a somewhat forced fist pump in celebration. This woman, Rose, was -unquestionably - the love of her life… and she was celebrating in the manner most befitting of a child. And not just any child… but an immature one at that.

'_What have I gotten myself into…?'_

'_God, I love her but…'_

'_If she doesn't stop dancing I will be the only one to leave this forest.'_

"God, I forgot how impossible you Succubae, can be?" Sophia said, shaking her head in exasperation. "Okay, stop dancing and let me get one thing straight, Rose! You are not younger than me! I am the young, sexy and vibrant woman in this relationship, not you? Understand?"

"Hehe! Of course, my Queen." Rose snickered, kneeling down to bow reverently at her feet. "You are of course younger than I, your humble, humble servant. Despite your grey hair and wrinkles."

Giggling at her own joke, Rose took Sophia's hand and attempted to lead her the last few steps out of the forest. When Rose's efforts were met with resistance, from a very peeved Sophia, Rose took the only action available to her. She picked up the squirming young woman and led them out of the forest.

"Rose! Rose! Put me down! Put me down right now! Rose!"

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

As Rose proceeded past the last line of trees – Sophia resting against her shoulder, moping in silence – the young Succubae finally released her partner from further embarrassment. The moment Sophia was placed on the ground she immediately ignored her partner, walked a few paces away and brushed the dirt and creases from her outfit. She was clearly still pissed, even someone as oblivious as Rose was able to discern that.

"Baby," Rose drawled, taking tentative steps towards her fiery partner. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Would a kiss make it all better?"

Huffing, Sophia continued to wipe the dirt from her expensive silk dress before turning her eyes to Rose. And, boy, if looks could kill…

"You would be lucky to get even one kiss out of me after what you just pulled."

"Hahaha!"

Sensing the truth in her partner's words, Rose's broad smile and obnoxious laughter slowly began to fade in the presence of Sophia's fierce glare. The young Succubae knew her mistake immediately. She had gone too far. But there was very little she could do… She couldn't help herself. Rose had a peculiar habit of teasing those she liked - or felt attracted to – and despite learning early on that Sophia disliked being 'picked-on,' Rose continued to make the same mistake over and over again.

Rose watched as Sophia became more and more agitated, fidgeting with her dress while refusing to look at her partner. It was one of the signs that Rose was familiar with. A sign that Sophia's emotions were becoming unstable. It had happened only a few times before and Rose knew immediately that she was the cause of it. She should have known better.

"…"

"N-Not only did you carry me on your shoulder," Sophia continued, brushing her dress of dirt despite it no longer being dirty. "Which was very uncomfortable, by the way! But you also called me your 'Queen!'"

"…"

'_Oh, shit…'_

'_Did I really say that to her…?'_

'_How could I have been so stupid.'_

"…"

"You know how I feel about that! Yes, I am known by most as the… the Princess of the Veela. And, yes… I am the last surviving daughter of the Queen. But that's what everyone else calls me! W-When it's just you and me… I… I…"

Lip quivering, Sophia looked at Rose in a state of shock. She had been shouting. Shouting! At Rose! Rose!

Then, recognising the looks of guilt and remorse on Rose's face, Sophia's anger melted away. She never liked to raise her voice, to anyone but especially to someone as important to her as Rose. Why would she do that? Why could she never control her emotions? She had no reason, no reason at all to shout at Rose. It was clearly a mistake and nothing more. So, why did she shout at her?

If Rose one day decided enough was enough…?

If she grew tired of her frequent and uncalled for temper tantrum's…?

…

…

NO!

No, she could not allow that. If Rose left her…

'_Breathe…'_

'_Breathe…'_

'_Everything is okay…'_

'_This is still salvageable…'_

She had to remain calm, not allow her worries and insecurities to control her. They had already gone through one fight in the last few years and the separation had almost driven her to the point of madness. There were very few things that could keep her emotions in check but the one person at the top of that list was the woman standing across from her. And yet…

…

…

"I-I'm sorry," Sophia whispered, eyes downcast and back hunched. "I'm sorry, Rose. I didn't mean… I mean… I did but… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you. It's just… I hate it when you call yourself my 'humble servant.' It makes me think… It makes me think that you don't really…"

Understanding Sophia's unspoken words, Rose stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the younger girl. Sophia became startled at first but as time passed, and as Rose stroked her hair, the young Veela gave in and nestled into Rose's warmth. The two stayed like that, the sounds of the forest and wildlife passing over them, and yet all they could hear was the intertwined beating of their own hearts.

"I know, Sophia," Rose whispered. "I know. It was a slip of the tongue, I promise. But please believe me when I say this… I love you. You hear me, Sophia. I love you. I am here, with you, because I desire you. Not because your mother coerced me into seeking your companionship and comfort. We have spoken about this so many times…"

"But…?" Sophia murmured, her next words forgotten as Rose continued to speak.

"We have spoken about this and I will continue to say the same thing, no matter how many times I have to repeat myself. I have never been approached by your mother to spy on you. I approached you of my own selfish accord. Your beauty was what drew me to you but I stayed because of the person underneath all this superficial beauty. I fell so madly in love with you and I am so far gone that I could never find a way out of it. Do you hear me? Even though you doubt me, and yourself, I will continue to say the same thing over and over again. Until… one day… you realise I speak the truth."

At these words Sophia pressed her face closer to Rose's neck and placed a soft kiss against it, drawing the Succubae closer with her outstretched arms. Rose welcomed the attention and closed her eyes as one kiss turned into another and another. Sophia's soft, delicious lips continued to brush against Rose's neck and the Succubae could not have felt more blessed.

"I love you so much, Rose," Sophia whispered, her breath fanning across the wet patch left by her lips. "It's just… So many people have claimed the same thing and have only had eyes for my virtue and position within the Veela ranks. You're the only one I want to believe but… I just… you feel too good to be true. You're the answer to all my problems. My beautiful knight in shining armour. The one person I have ever felt attracted to. And to think… that you feel the same way. This is all too good to be true."

"Hmm, I'm afraid I'm not the vision of perfection you think I am, Sophia. You know who I am. I'm an outcast among my own people. No longer recognised by the Succubae. I'm no one. Especially not a knight. And, as much as it pains me to say this, I am not the one who can solve all your problems for you, just like that," Rose murmured, pressing a kiss against Sophia's temple and smiled at the shiver that ran through the Veela's body.

Sighing, Sophia pressed herself further into the embrace, Rose welcoming the intrusion with open arms. This was all she needed. Rose might not have been able to solve all her problems but her presence alone was enough to rid her of any and all worries. There was no fear, no trepidation just this… this intimacy. No one, not even her own mother, had made Sophia feel this way. To feel loved was truly a blessing and one she was grateful for day after day.

"I know, Rose. Just having you here calms me. You solve all my problems without actually meaning to. Only you can do that. You might not agree but your opinion doesn't matter. I know you do and that is enough to satisfy me."

…

…

As Rose's breath blew out into white smoke in the cold winter evening, the Succubae started to laugh. Surprised, Sophia turned her head and listened to her partner's sweet laughter. What the hell was she doing…? They were having a moment. And she… Trust Rose to ruin something special between them.

"What are you laughing about? You better not be laughing at me or I'll…"

"No! No!" Rose giggled, smirking as she leaned back to look at her partner's beautiful face. "It's just… it's nothing."

Intrigued, Sophia narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion. "Rose, no secrets, remember. Go on out with it. I won't punish you, you have my word."

"It's just. I suppose I did end up solving one of your biggest problems, didn't I?"

Confused, Sophia looked at the Succubae with raised eye brows. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Rose whispered, picking Sophia up and pressing her flush against her body. "You don't have to worry about your virtue anymore. I already took care of that. Quite thoroughly as I recall."

Smiling, Sophia wrapped her arms around Rose's neck and pressed her lips against her partner. The young Veela only had to wait one heartbeat before Rose returned the kiss, dark red lips engulfing Sophia's pink lower lip. As Rose sucked on her lower lip, Sophia wrapped her legs around the Succubae's mid-driff and slowly began to drive her hips into the older woman. Teasingly dry humping her partner with slow, calculated movements of her hips.

Rose smiled into the kiss - the feeling of Sophia's hips rubbing against her own causing her breath to hitch – she was loving this. As their lips meshed against each other, tongue's batting against one another, Rose leaned back and gripped Sophia's lower lip between her teeth, tugging insistently. Sophia moaned, her head being tugged forward by her beautiful partner.

Before they could get too lost in the moment, Sophia disengaged from the kiss and rested her head against the nape of Rose's neck. She mewled, eyes closed and a wide smile gracing her pretty – if not smudged – lips. Taking deep breaths, Sophia began to stroke the back of Rose's neck with her fingers, taking great pleasure in the shiver the roamed her body at the slightest touch.

"Hmm, I remember it all too well. Our first night and all the nights after that. You were my first and… you will also be my last. That I have no doubt of. I only hope you can restrain yourself because, believe me, if you do I will reward you a million times over."

Laughing, Rose rested her head against Sophia's. "You may not have been my first, Sophia. But there will never be anyone else but you. You ruined me. I used to be such a player. Could have had any girl I want and as many women as I wanted all at the same time. And then… And then you came along. And now, now, you are the only woman I see. You've ruined me. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Smiling at one another, Rose took Sophia's hand and led her through the open garden space at the edge of the forest. As they walked both leaned against each other, the cold the last thing on their mind as they took in their surroundings. It was a beautiful area, overgrown but that too had a rustic beauty about it. This was a secret very few people knew about as only the forest permitted access and very few had earned the right to see such a magnificent sight.

As they continued through the weeds that littered the floor, Sophia's ears perked up at the approaching sound of water nearby. She gave Rose a suspicious look and, as if on cue, the Succubae winked and turned them towards an old yet abandoned waterfall. A smile rose to Sophia's lips and her hand was already prepared to take off her silk white dress at a second's notice.

'_I can get my clothes off in a jiffy…'_

'_But Rose…'_

'_Of course she decided to wear muggle clothes...'_

'_She wears nothing else…'_

'_She can't expect me to wait, can she?'_

'_If she takes too long I'll just have to rip them off her myself…'_

'_I can lend her some clothes from the palace, she won't mind…'_

"Is this your surprise?" Sophia murmured as Rose deposited her near the bank of the waterfall. "I must say I am very impressed. And that is not something I say often. How did you even find this place?"

Smiling, Rose lowered herself and kneeled in front of the sitting Sophia, her hands resting against the Veela's knees. "Mere chance I assure you. Now do you really want to hear the truth or would you rather we… you know… get reacquainted with each other."

Laughing, Sophia rolled her eyes. "'Get reacquainted with each other?' Is that the best you could come up with?"

"I may not be one with words but I assure you… my tongue has other, better uses."

Blushing, Sophia leaned forward until their lips were only a breath away. "Hmm, let's put that to the test, shall we?"

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

"Oohhh!" Sophia gasped, her back laid against the rock while her lover worked between her legs. "Oh! God! Yes! Yes! Don't sto… Oh My God!"

Smiling, Rose continued to knead at Sophia's stomach, electricity shooting through the young Veela's abdominals causing the muscles to spasm with every touch. Taking her time, Rose trailed her tongue around Sophia's moistening slit, red lips pulling on the clitoris with varying degrees of pressure. She was like putty in her hands and the feeling of control was enough to send pleasure rushing through her own body.

"So wet" *Lick* "So delicious" *Lick* "More" *Lick* "I'm going to drink you all up, baby." *Suck*

Shuddering breaths left Sophia as her hands crawled all over Rose's temple, fingers tugging at strands but never pulling hard enough to hurt. Rocking her hips – like that of a pole dancer – Sophia arched her body into Rose's touch. Looking down at her lover, Sophia grew redder by the second as Rose looked back at her, her tongue extended to lick at her pussy lips. The look in Rose's eyes was predatory and Sophia could not stop herself as she moved her hands to Rose's fringe and pushed her head down.

"Rose! Ahh! I need you! I need to feel you inside me! If I cum before you reach inside me! Then I will never forgive you!"

Grinning at Sophia's pussy, as that was all she could see, Rose circled the Veela's legs with her arms and leaned forward towards her intended target. The moment her velvety tongue pierced Sophia's nether lips, she circled them around the tight space. Sophia's hips jostled in response, Rose's arms keeping her in place as her body convulsed in pure pleasure.

"Oh! Oh, Rose! So good! Keep going! You know what to do! You know me best! Now prove it!"

As Rose's tongue prodded and probed the walls of Sophia's pussy, drops of juice slipped down her chin falling onto her weighty bosom. She would need to remember that. Not a single drop of Sophia's essence could escape her. She must have it all. Not even mother Earth was allowed to drink but a drop of Sophia's sweet nectar.

With every moan that left Sophia's lips, Rose grew hotter. She wanted to do more. This was not enough.

She had to something. More. She needed to hear more of Sophia's cries.

But, how?

As Sophia's rocked backwards and forwards against the rock, the young Veela's finger's pressed against Rose's head. She was pushing her hips up, meeting the Succubae's skilful tongue which had undone many a woman before her. And now, now she would be the only one to feel such pleasure from this incredible Succubae. The thought set a light in her and her actions became rougher in response, not a surprise as she had a preference for this kind of sex.

Sensing, Sophia's urgency, Rose lifted a hand away from the Veela's supple thigh and gripped a firm hand around her lover's ample bosom. Sophia moaned in reply to this and held a hand against Rose's urging her on, to press harder, to mould her flesh into whatever shape she desired. Rose complied, her tongue working at a rate of knots while her hands played with Sophia's succulent breasts.

"Harder! I'm not fragile, Rose! I want to feel you! Really feel you! I want to wake up tomorrow, Ah! Look in the mirror and see your hand prints all over my body! I want to see it and every time I do… I will think of you! So harder, Rose! Harder!"

Feeling a spike in her own sex, Rose became rougher in response. The moment she brought Sophia to orgasm she would follow not long after. Just the sight of making Sophia become undone, by her own hand, was enough to bring her to orgasm. To know that she was the one who brought this creature of beauty to such pleasurable heights.

She couldn't wait anymore. She needed to see it.

"Enough foreplay!" Rose gasped, her tongue leaving Sophia's lower lips with a wet pop. "I can't wait any longer! I hope you're ready, Sophia, my love."

…

Before Sophia could even come to terms with what was about to transpire she was suddenly flung into the shallow water.

…

…

'_W-what the fuck!?'_

…

…

The moment Sophia popped her head out of the water - gasping at both the pleasure and water in her lungs - she was set upon by her lover. Rose held her head and brought their lips together, Sophia was unprepared as she felt the roof of her mouth being assaulted by her lover's tongue. Sophia fought back, pressing further into Rose and wrapping her legs around her waist as they sat in shin deep water.

Sophia's pink lipstick no longer remained replaced by a darker shade of red which covered her mouth and chin. This was aggressive love making, just how they liked it. Tongue's battled against one another, dragging across cheeks and ears in their wild frenzy. Rose held Sophia's naked breasts and palmed them together while the young Veela leaned back and moaned in un restrained pleasure.

As they made love, waves upon waves of water assaulted their bodies, making them wet and slippery to the touch. Soaked, matted hair had to be drawn away as they kissed, thick strands resting against their shoulders and, on occasion, interrupting their lengthy lip-locks. Sophia gripped Rose harder, rocking her hips against her lover's lap.

Smiling, Rose dragged her hands up and down Sophia's wet back and pulled her closer to her body, her own hips pushing against her lover's. This was ecstasy. She had never felt anything like this before, not even during their previous love making. It was funny, just when she thought she couldn't love Sophia more the young Veela somehow managed to surprise her.

And that was not the only surprise in store for Rose.

To Rose's surprise, while they were continuing to kiss and fondle each other's bodies, Sophia leaned back and away from her lover's upper body. Alarmed, Rose held onto her mid-drift, fearing that the young Veela was thinking of moving away. In response to this Sophia merely smiled and lowered her hands to remove Rose's from her waist.

"I'm not running, baby." Sophia whispered seductively. "I'm just… going to give you a show."

And with that Sophia proceeded to stretch her arms into the sky and preceded to give her lover a slow, sensual lap dance. Rolling her hips against Rose's body, Sophia stretched as high as she could and gave the Succubae a full view of her stomach and breasts. Rose froze, having never seen Sophia act in such a way. She had always dreamed of such a thing but had never in a million years expected it to happen.

Flexing her abdominal muscles, Sophia proceeded to dance in the same fashion of a belly dancer. Her stomach curling like that of a snake. Rose knew very well that Sophia was outrageously flexible but even this was a surprise… and a turn on. She put professional belly dancers to shame, her body moving like the water that surrounded their naked lower bodies.

"Do you like that, Rose?" Sophia whispered, her hands slowly descending to trail over her face, her neck, her breasts, her belly… "It's all yours."

Rose's eyes widened and she leaned forward to kiss her lover but the wily Veela leaned away, giggling as she continued to hump away at Rose's lap from an awkward position. Rose tried again, desperate to feel Sophia's lips against hers but the smiling Veela shook her head and continued to smile. Then, just when Rose was growing even more desperate, Sophia circled her arms around Rose's head and smothered their lips together.

As they kissed Rose suddenly sensed a strange, burning sensation in her groin. It didn't hurt, quite the opposite in fact, it was pleasure, pure unadulterated pleasure. The sensation over took her and she moaned deeply into Sophia's mouth as the sensation throbbed inside her, become more and more prominent as their love making continued.

'_W-What is this…?'_

'_Oh my go…'_

'_Huh! Ahh!'_

Rose needed more. She wanted this pleasure to explode inside her, whatever it was. She was so close, just a little more.

Meanwhile, Sophia leaned back and away from Rose's mouth before trailing her lips down her lover's neck. When she reached Rose's vocal cords Sophia bit down softly, engulfing the little indentation with her entire dainty mouth. Rose moaned and held her head close, their hips continuing to rub together, their lower lips making contact under the water repeatedly.

As they proceeded to hump each other – to such an intensity that the water slushed all around them like a small tidal wave – Sophia moved further up Rose's body and rested her arms above the Succubae's head before resting their herself. Grinning, Rose spread Sophia's lower lips with her fingers and pushed two of them inside. Sophia moaned, eyes rolling back into her head as she lowered herself down against her lover's nimble fingers.

Sophia's eyes were closed as Rose watched her face, finger's opening and closing to scissor at her inner passage. Rose loved to watch Sophia's face when they made love, she had so many subtle reactions that could have been missed by even the most trained eye. Sophia's face scrunched up with every opening of her two fingers and her breath wheezed out of her softly whenever they closed. Rose watched as the Veela's eyes fluttered beneath her eye lids, watched as her lover shuddered and bit her lower lip with the intent to rile the Succubae.

"God! You are so doing that on purpose! I know you are! Stop being so impossibly cute! You'll ruin me!"

Laughing, Sophia opened her eyes and pressed a kiss to the tip of Rose's nose. "Hehe. You haven't seen anything yet, baby. And only you will be the one to see me like this."

Gasping, Rose moaned as Sophia pressed her face against her cheek, whispering.

"Only you can make me feel like this. Only you," Sophia continued, a hand claiming Rose's and moving it to press against her breasts. "Only you can touch me like this. I am yours, forever. So show me how much you love me. Show me everything. Your love. Your kindness. Your lust. Your desires. Everything. No matter what you ask of me… I will give you everything I have."

Moaning at Sophia's words, Rose knew that her lover had found her greatest weak point. To know you were wanted, to know that someone so beautiful, so kind and utterly unique to the world wanted her. There was no feeling like it. Sophia was giving herself to Rose. Offering everything. Rose found that so fucking hot that her loins burned at even the mere suggestion of it. She was done. There was no going back. Rose belonged to Sophia and Sophia belonged to Rose. They were an item no matter the obstacle, they would always be together.

Feeling that burning sensation return two-fold, Rose rubbed her body against Sophia and the younger Veela responded in kind. Taken by emotion, Rose leaned back and looked at Sophia rocking against her lap; wet hair flowing around her head, lips stained by dark red lipstick and breasts reddened by firm palm prints. This was everything she wanted in the world, right here. Sophia. Just Sophia.

Breathing heavily, Rose lifted a hand up towards Sophia and rested her fingers against her lover's mouth. Then, with every ounce of delicacy, Rose slipped a finger between her lips and pulled it between two fingers. She didn't know why she was doing this, but the feeling of Sophia's lips against her fingers was enough reason not to question it. Sophia too seemed unconcerned by the attention and continued to rut against her girlfriend with her eyes closed.

Letting go of Sophia's lip, Rose moved the pad of her thumb against the Veela's upper lip and watched as the supple skin yielded to the pressure. A moany breath left Sophia's lips and washed against Rose's fingers, a spike of arousal assaulting that strange pleasure that was growing inside of her.

Then, with all gentleness forgotten, Rose rubbed at Sophia's lips with her fingers. Sophia gasped at the sensation as her lips were being toyed with but she made no attempt to stop this. In fact, in some strange way, she loved it. As the seconds passed, and Rose became more confident, the Succubae slipped a finger between her lover's laps and rubbed at her tongue hidden within her mouth.

One finger was followed by another and they continued to stroke Sophia's tongue with firm strokes. Sophia even poked her tongue out to allow further access, gasping as a pair of dark red lips attached themselves to the end of her pink tongue. Suck gently, Rose held Sophia closer and trailed her lips up and down the Veela's tongue.

The heat was almost unbearable now. She was so close. Any moment and she would feel ecstasy the likes of which she had never experienced before.

Sensing their approaching orgasms, Rose pulled away from Sophia's tongue and focused on grinding her hips against her lover. Sophia responded in kind, nestling against Rose's lap and bringing their faces closer together. They shared one kiss and then stared at each other eye to eye, only a breath apart.

Rose took in Sophia's beauty, the water dripping down her cheeks and lips, matted her resting on her shoulders and forehead. A vision of indescribable beauty sat before. How did she ever get so lucky?

Noticing Rose's attentions, Sophia smiled in response and maintained eye contact as they continued to drive their hips against each other. So close. So very close. Heavy breathing followed, Sophia soft lips yielding to the air that pushed past them fanning Rose's lips. Sophia was staring at her, eyes half lidded, cheeks flushed and a small smile rising in her lip.

This was it. She could feel it building. No turning back now.

And, with one final drive of her hips, Sophia became undone and orgasmed in a cry of sheer, uncontrolled pleasure. Hands circling Rose's head, eyes wide and her body shuddering from the mind blowing orgasm that sent electricity shooting throughout her entire body. Sophia's cries of pleasure, the feel of Sophia's wet skin against her own and the hot liquid that pressed against her sex. This combined euphoria caused a sharp blast of arousal to shoot through her and she followed Sophia shortly thereafter.

…

Only…

…

This was different…

…

As Rose came undone. A rush of heat burst inside her, far more intense than anything she had experienced before. Rose's eyes widened and she screamed… in complete and utter silence. Her body became stiff, back arched as she looked up at the heavens. The pleasure flowed through her stomach and shot out of her at impossible speeds. Rose could not move, her muscles had tightened and she was still staring at the sky.

Something had happened…

That was not normal…

"Rose?" Sophia asked, the last strains of arousal leaving her body to be replaced by concern. "Rose, what's wrong?"

Rose said nothing. Eyes still staring at the sky as her body remained motionless, fluid continuing to gush out of her body longer than was considered normal by her kind or any other kind for that matter. Growing nervous, Sophia leaned up and pressed a hand to Rose's cheek, trying to comfort her lover despite not knowing what was wrong.

It was then, at Sophia's touch, that the pleasure drained her completely, returning her body to normal functions once again. Falling backwards, Sophia held onto Rose as they fell to the floor, covering the back of her head with her hand to prevent any possible harm to her lover. The water lapped at the side of Rose's head and Sophia manoeuvred up her body to look at her lover, eye to eye.

"Rose? Baby? What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

Gasping, taking in as much air as possible, Rose looked at her girlfriend with weighted eyes. "I-I'm fine. It's nothing. Haha. I guess you took a lot more out of me then I expected."

Laughing, Sophia grinned at the Succubae and shrugged. "What can I say. I'm a natural."

"Yeah," Rose replied, chuckling to herself. "You sure are. That was absolutely amazing. I've never felt anything like that before. Do you know how rare that is for me to say, especially when we're talking about sex? What did you do to me, Sophia?"

Confused, Sophia tilted her head and narrowed her eyes with a hint of teasing. "Me? Apart from the lap dance, I didn't do anything. Why? Was I really that good."

Sensing the hope in Sophia's voice, Rose smiled. "That was the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. And I'm not even saying that to make you feel better. That was honestly the greatest sexual experience of my life. No one has ever made me cum like that before."

"Really? That's weird. I didn't do anything special. We just did the usual stuff. What made it so much better than the last time, babe?"

"I don't know. The last time we had sex was incredible but this was so much more. I can't explain why, though. We didn't do anything different." Noticing Sophia's concern, Rose quickly allied concerns with a joke. "Maybe you are just that damn good."

Laughing, Sophia snuggled up to Rose and listened to the sound of her racing heartbeat. Some the young Veela was fond of doing as it 'helped to calm her.' Meanwhile, Rose continued to look at the sky, a new strange feeling coming over her as she felt Sophia resting against her body.

'_What the hell was that…?'_

'_Why do I feel so different…?'_

'_What the hell happened to me…?'_

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

_._

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Author's Notes: Hello ladies and gentlemen. I hope you enjoyed this chapter because my god was it difficult to write. I've had to split this whole chapter into three parts because I'm struggling with a couple of sections. The next two chapters are almost finished but I really don't like some parts of it so I have been writing and re-writing them and they still look like a mess. Luckily, splitting them up means I'll have more time and can update quicker because all chapters are pretty much written, they just need to be refined and edited.

Funnily enough, there wasn't even supposed to be a sex scene in this chapter but after talking with a fan 'who was disappointed at the lack of sex in this story, as was advertised.' I decided to include one here. The reviewer had a point as well, the plot synopsis clearly states 'heavy smut' and I have failed to deliver on that. I will try to make it up to those who want to read about Hermione or other characters in sexual situations but I also understand that some people also like the story I've weaved. I will try to balance the two to make for an entertaining story.

Originally this story was supposed to be a meaningless smut, to tide me over while I wrote my other stories. There was never supposed to be any plot, just Hermione involved in multiple situations with female characters. But, as has always been the case, I began to think of how I would have written this story if it had a plot and that was when The Succubus really took off. I put some much time and thought into it that I decided to go with it. And I have been rewarded for it, the number of people reading this story is jaw dropping. I cannot thank you guys enough for sticking with this story despite my difficult schedule.

Also, many of you might be confused as to who Sophia is. That will all become clear in time. Sophia will become a very interesting character to many I suspect. She is not as stable as others but has a heart of gold when it truly matters. I won't say why this chapter starts with her but I assure you it will all make sense by the end. Just know that she is very important to this story, she has been mentioned before but has never actually appeared. No more clues :P

Before I go I have some good news for futa fans. **There will be a futanari version of this sex scene uploaded in the next couple of days, for any who are interested.** This version will be more detailed so apologies to those who are only interested in normal sex but there is a reason for it that will become apparent in the next chapter. I won't spoil it but for those who like futa, this is going to be very steamy, believe me. I have a lot of ideas that incorporate futa into this scene, so definitely look forward to that.

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**For anyone who is interested in knowing more about Sophia and Rose, i.e. their relationship etc. Then I would advise you to listen to a song that I have used to while writing many future scenes for them. It will give you an idea as to where this is all going. The song is called: Schizophrenia from the game Saya No Uta. For the full idea look for the video which has a picture of a woman hidden in shadow behind a red and black fuzzy background. That will give you the greater idea for how the next chapters will unfold. I assure you... you won't be disappointed. If you have any questions feel free to ask me and I will explain the matter to the best of my ability. No spoilers though.**

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.Remember to vote in the poll on my FanFiction profile page. At this moment of time **Fleur is winning by a landslide.** If you want that to change or would rather reinforce that particular pick, then make your vote count. The winning character will get more scenes with Hermione, this will be decided in two weeks' time.

All the best until next time


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